A Tale of Fire and Ice
by whatswiththemustache
Summary: All it takes is a little push for possibility to become destiny. In a world where Elsa decides to take matters into her own hands, she flees from Arendelle in hopes of finding freedom. Instead, she finds Camelot... and Merlin finds her. Unfortunately, things aren't quite as simple as that.
1. The Prophecy

**Hi, and welcome to the introduction of my newest fanfiction and first crossover - A Tale of Fire and Ice. This idea has been lurking about in my mind for some time...actually ever since I first saw Frozen, because the moment I saw that scene in the beginning where the King answers the troll's question about Elsa's magic with the predictable 'She was born with it', I just knew I **_**had**_** to write a Merlin+Frozen crossover. **

**I was actually hugely surprised that there are only four (well, five, now) Frozen and Merlin crossovers. Has no one else realized the potential here? - or is it simply that nobody is interested in Frozen/Merlin crossovers? I'm sincerely hoping that the second isn't true, because I personally feel that this idea is seriously awesome. **

**Title: ****A Tale of Fire and Ice**

**Genre:**** Adventure, Friendship...also falls into Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Angst, possibly Suspense...believe me, this is the full package deal here. **

**Rating:**** K+ (may change in the future, but don't worry - this will never go any higher than T.) **

**Summary:**** The Prophecy of the Once and Future King was foretold at the dawn of time, so immensely powerful a prediction that it seemed nothing could stop it from becoming the truth. But, far north of where much of that prophecy should come to pass, destinies are being reforged. Now there is a new Prophecy that foretells the fall of all kingdoms, betrayal and secrets, and most of all, an undying love that is the world's only hope...this is the prophecy of Emrys and Elsa, Fire and Ice. **

**Note:**** The introduction starts at the end of the Frozen scene in which the King and Queen of Arendelle have gone to see the trolls about Anna's injury from Elsa's magic...after the break, it picks up somewhere between the end of Season One and the Beginning of Season Two. I'll continue cluing you in on the setting as we progress through the story. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Introduction: The Prophecy**

The first whisper of a change was spoken in the far north, in the kingdom of Arendelle.

In the dark of night, the King and Queen rode at a gallop from their castle, with their two little daughters bundled beneath their cloaks. Waking the trolls who lived deep in the forest, they exchanged a few words with the oldest of the trolls, who healed Princess Anna from her sister's ice magic. As the Queen carried the sleeping Anna back to the horses, Princess Elsa in tow, the old troll beckoned the King to come closer. The King crouched down, eyebrows raised in expectation.

"There is more," the wise old troll murmured, sighing. "Elsa's magic is of a rare kind – an elemental magic, some would call it. These powers over ice are woven together with her very soul. She can learn to control it, but never to hide it entirely. It is too huge a part of her."

The King frowned, shaking his head. "We can't let the kingdom know that their princess has magic. There are too many others who oppose it – Elsa will have to hide it, at least for now."

"I fear no good will come of it," the troll said sadly, gazing intently at the man beside him. "There are a people who practice magic for the good of all. They are called druids."

"I've heard of them," the King nodded, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Some of the druids are powerful enough to know what still could be – they are Seers. These Seers have spoken of things long before they've come to pass." The troll eyed the king warily, watching for his reaction. "There is a prophecy."

The King's eyes widened. "Of…Elsa?"

The old troll nodded grimly. "No one future is set in stone, and the druids have been wrong before…but this prophecy is hundreds of years old. It speaks of love and betrayal, and a terrible danger to all the kingdoms."

"What can we do – surely we can prevent it?"

Shaking his head, the troll sighed heavily. "One's decisions can cause one future just as much as it can prevent another. By trying to avoid this prophecy, you may very well make it possible. No, it is best to ignore it…best to let destiny choose if it is to be truth. 'If locks should fail and courage flee'…well, then the destinies of Elsa and the great Emrys shall be entwined."

* * *

It was many years later, in a kingdom far from Arendelle, that another being voiced that possibility again.

Deep beneath the sprawling castle of Camelot, the Great Dragon shifted in his sleep. Amber eyes opening, Kilgharrah raised his head. The huge dragon could sense a change in the fabric of destinies and futures that coated this world.

"Well, well, well," the beast said solemnly into the empty air. "It would seem that a _new_ destiny is being wrought…a destiny of Elsa and Emrys. The prophecy _will_ come to pass…"

The roar of salute that the great dragon made to the change in the world's balance was heard by none in the city of Camelot. Only a few other great beings of magic sensed the ripples that the dragon's call had made…

* * *

Leagues away, a patrol of men slept around a flickering campfire. A few of their heavy red cloaks hung from low branches of neighboring trees. A sudden gasp broke the silence, one of the men jumping in his sleep.

Merlin sat up slowly, frowning as he listened intently for whatever it was that had woken him. All around, only the distant sounds of the forest were to be heard.

A sharp snapping sound made Merlin jump again, turning his head so fast it gave him whiplash. Across the campfire, Arthur was propped up on his elbows, giving Merlin a strange look. "What _are_ you doing?" he said gruffly, before shaking his head skeptically at Merlin and lying back down.

Merlin let out a breath, shaking his head slowly, and lowered himself cautiously back down on his bedroll. Whatever it had been, it seemed to be gone now…

* * *

_If locks should fail and courage flee,_

_Her journey will shape a new destiny._

_The flames of love will melt cold chains,_

_The strength of trust betrayal stains._

_Decisions made demand the price._

_He is fire, she is ice._

_Their power combined will balance the scale,_

_If only the truth and secrets prevail._

_All kingdoms flourish or fall,_

_The earth must sleep or consume all._

* * *

**Please review! Thanks for reading! =)**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	2. So Much For Locks

**Hi! I'd just like to say thanks again to the people who've left reviews so far - you've all boosted my confidence about this story (and are basically the reason I'm updating so soon.)**

**Note:**** This takes place one year before Elsa's designated coronation...just so you know. These first few chapters will be mainly about the Frozen side of things, because that's basically where this story is set into motion. But don't worry - the 'crossover' part of this crossover is not far away! **

* * *

**Chapter Two: So Much for Locks**

The great castle of Arendelle was as silent as it ever was that time of morning, the sun shining down on its turrets from its rising position in the sky. The quiet halls and still, stagnant rooms were near deserted, specks of dust drifting slowly in the undisturbed air. The only sound to be heard was a muffled set of footsteps, moving slowly along a shadowy hall.

Those footsteps belonged to Princess Anna, who walked slowly down the corridor, hands clasped and head bowed. She came to an indecisive halt before a tall white and blue door, locked and shut as it always was.

Anna raised her head slowly to look at the door, biting her lip as she gazed at the keyhole. For a moment, she stood unmoving – then, with a start, she glanced over her shoulder before stepping closer to the door, reaching a hand beneath the folds of her cloak.

On the other side of the door was yet another still and shadowy room, but it lacked the heavy feel of misuse that the other rooms contained. The hearth was dark and cold, and a deep chill filled the room. Across the dark room, past a neatly made bed and other well-kept furniture, a solitary figure sat on the sill of the huge triangular window.

Elsa's gloved hands rested limply in her lap as she sat idly on the windowsill, looking out through the thick glass. Though outside the sun was shining brightly, it seemed that its warmth couldn't penetrate into Elsa's chambers. With a quiet sigh, Elsa turned away from the window to gaze somberly at her hands. After all these years, Elsa had gotten used to the uncomfortable feeling of the gloves that tightly hugged her skin. When not paying attention, she barely noticed anymore, but when she thought about it, Elsa could _feel_ her power trapped beneath the fabric.

Elsa often thought about taking off her gloves, but she seldom did. Spending so much time locked in her chambers, all Elsa ever seemed to do was think. She'd sit by the window all day, falling into a sort of stupor as her thoughts carried her away…but in the end, she'd always come back to the same situation – she was locked away from the world, and it seemed that that could never change.

Now she lifted a hand slowly, flexing her fingers as if in experiment. Deep in thought, Elsa missed the soft _click _that drifted from the other end of the room. For a moment all was quiet, until –

_CRASH! _Elsa leapt up from her seat as the earsplitting jangle of falling metal made her heart pound.

"Who's there?!" Elsa said loudly, trying to keep her voice from shaking as she peered into the shadowy corners of her room. "Who is it?"

From the darkness by the doors, more jangling came, sounding like someone was picking up whatever had fallen. "Sorry – sorry, ah – " Elsa frowned as her sister emerged from the shadows, holding in her arms the fragmented remains of a wall-mounted candelabra. Anna gave her a sheepish grin, indicating the clinking mess. "I kind of didn't see where I was going," she explained awkwardly.

Elsa shook her head in disbelief, glaring at her sister. "_Anna_ – what are you doing in here? The door was locked –"

Anna averted her eyes as she stepped quickly over to a chair by the wall, gently pouring the broken pieces of candelabra on the seat. Dusting her hands off uncomfortably, Anna met Elsa's eye with a determined look on her face. "I wanted to talk to you."

Elsa gaped at Anna, her frown deepening. "You _broke into_ my chambers?" Elsa's eyes widened in disbelief as Anna grimaced guiltily.

"It's just that I never see you – " Anna started, but Elsa cut her off in anger.

"So you _break into_ my chambers."

"I didn't think you'd mind that much – "

"Did it ever occur to you to _knock_?"

"Yes, actually!" Elsa was surprised by the sudden anger in Anna's voice. "All the time. Only you always ignore me."

Elsa felt a rush of shame at Anna's words; of course, they were true. Elsa lowered her gaze momentarily, her resolve wavering, before sighing heavily. "You shouldn't be here," Elsa said quietly. "The door was locked for a reason."

Anna stepped forward hastily, raising her bare hands in protest. "No, please – can I just talk to you? For a little bit – I never get to talk to you anymore," Anna begged, a small, hopeful smile lighting her face.

Elsa tilted her head, about to say what she always did – _no_ – when Anna continued.

"It's just – " Anna said hesitantly, the smile fading from her face. "I didn't know if you remembered…but today, it's been two years since they left. Our parents. Two years today since they sailed away and – and never came back."

Elsa stared at Anna's somber face, noticing her sister's unusually bright eyes and feeling her heart contract. "I know – of course, I remembered." _How could I forget?_

Anna looked down, swinging her arms slightly. "I never – I mean, ever since they left – everything's been so different. Like time's slowed down. Nothing ever happens…I've never been so lonely."

Elsa nodded tentatively, shoulders slumped. "I know…neither have I."

Smiling timidly, Anna raised her shoulders, gesturing at the large room around them. "That's not very surprising, in this place."

Elsa smiled appreciatively, shrugging. Anna's smile widened at Elsa's show of humor. "I remember – when we were little, our parents used to tell me that you were meditating, when I asked what you did all alone up here…" Anna laughed, shaking her head wistfully. "I'd tell them that I wanted to learn how to meditate too, so we could do it together…"

Elsa allowed a warm, nostalgic smile on her face, remembering how it had been before their parents had died. "It was a much less lonely meditation, when they were around…" At Anna's hopeful look, Elsa realized what she had said and the trap she had fallen into. With a start, she drew back, but Anna spoke first.

"It doesn't have to be so lonely," Anna said earnestly, spreading her arms widely. "It just – it doesn't make much sense for two lonely sisters to lock themselves up in separate parts of their castle, does it? I don't understand why it has to be like this."

Elsa looked away, shaking her head. "It just does."

"Why?" Anna's voice was resolute. As Elsa sighed in a tone that clearly said she wasn't going to say any more, Anna made a frustrated sound, standing her ground. "Why won't you tell me? Why won't everyone just stop treating me like a baby, who can't be trusted with a secret, and just _tell_ me?"

"Anna…" Elsa said, her tone a warning. Anna just shook her head.

"Back to the same old line, isn't it? I'm sick of everyone telling me that it's 'for my own good', Elsa. I don't want to be protected; I just want to know the truth." Anna said loudly, her hands on her hips.

Elsa's eyes widened in shock, taken aback by her sister's outburst. "Anna, it's time for you to _leave_."

"No."

Elsa stared. "First you force your way into my chambers, then you come to me demanding answers that I cannot give –"

Anna scowled, stepping forward. "If you would tell me the truth instead of hiding, then I wouldn't _have _to force my way into your chambers!"

Elsa fumed, about to retort angrily when she felt a chillingly familiar feeling, blooming in her chest – a light feeling as if she were flying, jumping from a great height; it was as cold as ice but as comfortable as slipping into a warm bath – with a gasp, Elsa looked down at her hands, still gloved and protected. At her feet, though…

Beneath the hem of her dark blue gown, Elsa could just see the tips of her slippers, pale against the dark floor. The floor just beneath her feet, however, wasn't quite so dark; spreading outward, emanating from where Elsa stood, was a patch of blue-hued ice that coated the floor. Elsa whimpered in horror as she watched the ice strengthen, stretching across the floor to where Anna stood.

"Anna – go – you need to go –" Elsa stumbled back, frantically meeting Anna's confused eyes.

"No – Elsa, I'm not leaving until you tell me –" Anna started stubbornly before Elsa cut her off.

"GO!" Elsa shouted, fisting her gloved hands tightly. She watched in dread as the ice swiftly approached her oblivious sister, who looked shocked at Elsa's order.

"Why are you _being_ like this?" Anna demanded angrily, tears glimmering at the corners of her eyes. Elsa faltered as she dithered on the spot, unable to move – the ice coating the floor was less than a foot from Anna –

"_No!_" Elsa cried, leaping forward just as the ice touched Anna's feet. Anna took a step back, startled – Elsa reached out uselessly as Anna lost her balance, waving her arms in the air as she tried to steady herself –

Elsa ran to Anna's side as her sister pushed herself up from the icy floor, jerking her bare hands away from the cold surface in confusion.

"Anna – are you alright?" Elsa cried, crouching down but hesitating to touch her sister. Anna nodded shakily, staring at the bluish floor.

"What – Elsa, is this…_ice_?" Anna stood up, eying the floor around them nervously. "How – it's the middle of _summer_, how can –"

Elsa got up slowly, looking around as well. As her worry for Anna faded, it was replaced by horror. She couldn't believe she had let her powers get out of hand like this – it was almost as bad as last time. Staring at her palm with wide eyes, Elsa let out a shaky breath. "Anna, you need to go."

Anna looked up at Elsa, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Do you see this? There's ice, all over your floor! We need to call someone – it's _impossible_ –"

Elsa shook her head, retreating slowly. "It's fine, Anna," she said quietly, her voice still quivering. "Just – you have to go, I'll take care of it –"

Elsa saw Anna frown in confusion, about to refuse, and she struggled to bite down her frustration, taking deep, calming breaths. "_Please_, Anna," Elsa begged, her voice shaking. "Please, go."

Anna stood unmoving for a second, her expression torn, before finally taking a small step back. "Okay," Elsa heard her say in a small voice as she retreated. "Whatever you say."

Elsa stood still until she heard the soft click of her door as it was pulled shut. With a gasp of anguish she sank to icy floor, putting her face in her hands; a series of sharp snaps filled the air around her as her entire chambers was coated in the advancing ice. Elsa looked up to see the little light that there was fade as the ice thickened over the window, and heard a muffled crunch as the ice filled the keyhole of her door, more effective than any lock. With a heart-wrenching sob, Elsa curled up on the cold floor, burying her face in her arms; the dark room seemed to absorb her cries, locking her away from the rest of the world.

* * *

**So... any thoughts? Questions? Comments? I'm always happen to hear them. Thanks for reading! Ttyl!**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	3. The Flight and the Forging

**Chapter Three: The Flight and the Forging**

Anna spent the rest of the day pacing up and down the length of her room, wandering idly down the corridors she knew by heart, spending long hours tucked away in her favorite hiding spots strewn throughout the castle. She hardly registered where she was going, or what she was doing; completely forgetting to return to her chambers for the evening meal, Anna watched the last rays of sunlight leave the sky from a particularly remote windowsill near the top of the south tower, in a small room that nobody ever seemed to use. In the midst of her endless reverie, she acknowledged in passing that this whole castle seemed to be falling into an abandoned-like state, as cold and empty as it always was.

_Only me and Elsa are left_, Anna thought, an unprecedented chill covering her arms in goosebumps._ Just us, forgotten in this forsaken old place…_

Anna had spent the day going over the morning's events, trying to put things straight in her mind. It was impossible to believe, yet true: Elsa's chambers had been filled with _ice_. And though ice was common in Arendelle in the heart of winter, this was the middle of summer; warm, sunny, and definitely far above freezing temperatures. No, the ice had not been natural.

Then, Anna had concluded, the ice must have been magical.

_No, that doesn't make sense_, she thought to herself in frustration. There was no sorcerer to cast the ice, not in this castle. Anna knew of magic-users only by books and the distant memories of her parents speaking about some sorcerer or other, albeit very rarely. It seemed that sorcerers didn't like the kingdom of Arendelle much; perhaps it was too cold or too far north, but whatever the reason, you'd have to search long and hard before finding any magic-user at all anywhere near Arendelle.

Perhaps if there had been some kind of spell or enchantment that allowed the sorcerer to create the ice even if he wasn't present…

Anna mentally shook her head, ridding her mind of the magical ice. Whatever it had been, it didn't worry Anna anywhere near as much as did the fact that Elsa hadn't seemed at all shocked to find ice creeping across her chambers.

Yes, Elsa had been terrified; Anna had seen the horror in her eyes quite plainly. But it was more of a resigned horror, as though Elsa had been waiting all along for something similar to happen…no, Anna concluded regretfully, Elsa had not been in the least bit surprised.

Letting her head fall against the cold glass of the window, Anna frowned as her mind raced. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this had something to do with why Elsa stayed locked up in her room all the time. Was she being intimidated by some sorcerer, trapped under the threat of the ice magic? Anna felt that the truth was close, but somehow this thought didn't seem to fit. It didn't make sense…

Anna heaved a great sigh, closing her eyes. So many thoughts seemed to be crowding in her mind that she could hardly think, and a dull pain was growing in her left temple, sure to become a pounding headache before long. Maybe in the morning things would make more sense….

* * *

It was not long before Elsa's tears had dried, and that her body was too exhausted to sport any more of the wracking sobs that had earlier plagued her. The pale princess sat of the edge of her bed, sniffing occasionally, as she gazed blankly at her frost-covered walls. Though she appeared idle, her mind was far from at rest.

Elsa's mind was, more or less, a frenzied mess at the time, but she knew one thing for certain: her magic was chillingly close to escaping her control. The horror that surfaced whenever Elsa thought of what had almost happened that morning never faded; in fact, as Elsa went over the events again and again in her mind, her feeling of unease only intensified, until she felt slightly sick.

Elsa couldn't let Anna ever get so close to being hurt by her powers again. As this determined thought settled in her mind, Elsa found her gaze wandering to the door to her chambers, standing firmly shut and, all of the sudden, strangely significant. Thinking about how Anna had broken into her chambers, Elsa allowed herself to consider an option she'd never thought about before…because quite suddenly, that door didn't seem like a very reliable barrier between herself and the rest of the world.

All her life, that door had never been protection for her, Elsa; it had been protecting the world _from_ her_._ One hundred percent necessary, unquestionable, irremovable: Elsa was the danger, and she needed to be kept away from everyone else. But recently Elsa had been thinking les s about what lay inside that door, and more about what was outside.

That door wasn't going to keep Anna away from Elsa any more. But, there was a whole world out there…

Maybe it was time for a different kind of distance.

Elsa felt herself sliding quietly off her bed, her feet hitting the ground silently. It was almost without feeling that she moved to her tall mahogany wardrobe, yanking open drawers and swiftly removing a select few articles of clothing, as well as a small, jingling pouch of coins; systematically pulling on a pair of boots and a thicker, heavier pair of gloves, it was almost as if Elsa had planned this, memorized each and every move by heart.

In what seemed like no time at all, Elsa was standing if=n front of that door, feeling her breath hitch as she stared at the doorknob. It would have been a menacing sight for anyone, glowing dimly with the thin sheet of ice that coated it. For the first time ever, though, it represented a whole lot more to Elsa.

_Am I really going to do this?_

Elsa reached forward with her gloved hand and opened the door.

* * *

_**In Camelot…**_

For a moment, the castle of Camelot lay silent, the dead of night seeping around and into the city like an upturned bottle of ink spilling across a tabletop; the moonless sky seemed to muffle everything like a heavy blanket. The whole city was deep in sleep – the townsfolk in their houses of varying degrees of shabbiness; the royalty that slept in the castle, swathed in sheets of silk; even the supposedly-vigilant guards, their helmeted heads lolling onto their chests.

Just for a moment, all was still…

But then that moment ended.

Inside the thick castle walls, the Lady Morgana woke with a start as the scream that had been building in her throat broke loose, shrill and sharp like some wailing banshee; eyes bright with terror, legs tangled in her heavy blankets, Morgana gasped in heaving sobs between her strangled cries. The very picture of fear, anyone would have thought she'd woken to find some dark figure looming over her, brandishing an axe…anyone, that is, except the residents of Camelot, who knew by then that this could only be a nightmare.

* * *

**So…can any of you guess the implications? Any thoughts, questions, comments, predictions, requests, observations, clarifications…yeah, you get my gist – leave a review! Leave two! I definitely don't mind. **

**Hope you liked! **

**~whatswiththemustache**


	4. A Glimpse Through the Flames

**Chapter Four: A Glimpse through the Flames**

The images burned through her mind like fire, branded behind her eyelids.

_-a Camelot patrol thundered into the courtyard, Arthur leaping off his mount to pull an unconscious woman with white-blond hair down from the horse – _

Morgana found herself stumbling out of her chambers, forgetting to pull the door shut behind her as she nearly tumbled down the stairs. Tears streaked her cheeks and she still struggled to breathe as the visions replayed in her mind.

_-the surface of a black lake, shining in the moonlight, came alive as a fluid, snakelike flame danced across the water, only to become intertwined with a bluish tendril of ice, equally fluid and unreal; the lake's surface sparkled as they looped around each other, drifting higher and higher – _

Guards straightened guiltily as she rushed past, not offering to help – they were used to this, Morgana knew. Everyone knew about her nightmares and her bouts of hysteria that followed.

_-a pair of monstrous amber eyes glared at her from the dark, the beast's huge mouth gaping open to reveal jagged teeth and a burst of fire that somehow slowed down in midair, each tendril of flame seeming to freeze right before it reached her –_

Morgana came to a stop in front of Gaius's door almost without realizing it, and quickly banged her hand once against its surface before pushing it open, the darkness of the room immediately offering the visions for her to see once more.

_-she seemed to spiral down into the ground, the tunnel around her getting narrower and narrower, with jagged spears of ice branching out from the sides, getting thicker and thicker until she couldn't see in front of her, and then the darkness closed in– _

"Gaius!" Morgana cried, searching blindly for a lamp. A few candles were lit at a table by Gaius's bed, but they had burned down so low that they offered almost no light at all. Morgana rushed to Gaius's bed and shook the old man's arm, too scared to feel guilty about waking him.

Gaius jerked awake, blinking his eyes open and sputtering. "What? What is it –" Gaius grumbled, clearly disoriented for a moment before he seemed to realize that Morgana was standing over him, shaking in terror.

"Morgana! What's wrong, my lady?" Gaius cried, jumping out of bed and fumbling with an oil lamp that stood discreetly on a cluttered table nearby. Morgana gasped another shaky breath as Gaius guided her to a chair by another table and gently sat her down.

"It was – it was another nightmare…" Morgana said, her lower lip quivering before she met Gaius's eyes deliberately. "But not." Morgana tried to tell him with her eyes, not wanting to say it out loud – _it was real._

Gaius nodded, eyebrows raised, and took a breath. "Do you want to tell me…?"

Morgana looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap to keep them from shaking, before closing her eyes, letting the images flash past. "I don't know – this dream was different, somehow. Faster, in a way…everything flashing past, happening too quickly…"

Gaius furrowed his brow but said nothing, his silence encouraging her on.

"First…a patrol rode in, and there was a woman…she was hurt, I think. But I couldn't see – it was too _fast_, and then there was a lake, but it looked like it was on fire – but there was _ice_ too –" Morgana frowned, shaking her head in confusion. "It doesn't make any sense…I don't even know what I saw –"

Gaius cut off Morgana's words before she could work herself up too much. "Just try and tell me what you saw, without trying to make sense of it…just the images."

Morgana nodded nervously. "After the lake…there was this cave, all dark, except for a beast of some sort…a dragon." Morgana paused, glancing up at Gaius's unreadable face. "It breathed fire, but then the fire just _stopped_ – like it was frozen in midair. Then – I don't know, but it seemed like something happened to the dragon. The ice –" Morgana hesitated before shaking her head. "I can't remember."

Gaius didn't say anything for a long moment before sighing slightly. "What else?" He said gently.

"After that…I'm sure there were more, but I can only remember bits and pieces. Some tunnel…it was covered in ice, like spears stretching into the dark…then there was some other woman…but not…" Morgana's eyes widened, remembering the scene in her mind. "She – a sorceress – she was awful…" Morgana gasped another little sob, shaking her head. "I don't understand…there was ice everywhere, but it's _summer_. How could –"

Gaius hushed her, shaking his head. "I know that you said that this dream was different, but I think that it was nothing more than a nightmare." Morgana's eyes widened, and she shook her head frantically.

"No, Gaius, you can't write this off as nonsense! My dreams do come true sometimes, you know they do –" she stifled another sob, wrapping her arms around herself. "But if this one comes true, then – it'll be _terrible_ –"

Morgana continued protesting feebly as Gaius went to get her another one of those sleep draughts he was always giving her. A part of Morgana thought that Gaius was right – her dream had been pretty far-fetched, after all – but a bigger, louder part disagreed. This one _was_ different, the kind of different that she never wanted to feel again.

Gaius sent Morgana back to bed, and Morgana, her anger fading as exhaustion kicked in, finally agreed. Back in her chambers, she drained the sticky-sweet sleeping draught, and collapsed on her bed as the potion took effect. Maybe it _had_ been a dream, after all…

Back in the physician's chambers, Gaius was still sitting at his cluttered table, brow furrowed in deep thought, when Merlin cautiously pushed open the feeble wooden door that led to his room. Dressed in his nightclothes, bleary-eyed yet alert, he stood just past the doorway and observed the nearly-empty room before him.

"What was that about?"

Gaius didn't react to Merlin's voice, having expected it. For a moment he stayed quiet, before answering cautiously, trying to sound weary. "Another of Morgana's nightmares…nothing unusual."

Merlin frowned and took a few steps farther into the room, running a hand through his messy hair. "That didn't sound vey _usual_. She sounded terrified."

Gaius sighed, pushing himself up from the chair and busying himself with the clutter of objects scattered across the table's surface. "She works herself into a frenzy over ordinary nightmares. I gave her a stronger sleeping draught than normal…perhaps she'll find a restful sleep now."

Merlin tilted his head, stubbornly crossing his arms. "_Why_ do always just tell her to go back to sleep –_ it was just a dream, don't worry about it _– when you know that most of the time, her dreams are _more_ than that."

Gaius sighed, giving up the hope that he wouldn't be dragged into this argument. "It won't help her to tell her otherwise. It's better for her to not know – less for her to worry about …"

Merlin took a deep breath, pursing his lips before shaking his head – _forget it._ "What was her dream about?"

Gaius continued shuffling around the room, deliberately avoiding Merlin's eyes as he flipped open a book a pointedly ran a finger down a page. "I hardly think that's important – I actually think that it _was_ a nightmare, this time."

Merlin raised an eyebrow, mulishly sticking to the subject. "She said something about ice…a tunnel? And some sorceress?"

"Yes, something like that. Which is why I don't think that it's actually going to come true. Just a dream, this time." Gaius turned to face Merlin, meeting his eyes. "There's no point dwelling over this dream, because that's all it was."

Merlin smiled slightly, rolling back on his heels. "If it is…then why are you trying to hide what she saw from me? And…why are reading a book upside-down?"

Gaius looked down in surprise, to find that he couldn't read a word on the page. "Ah."

Merlin stifled a laugh as Gaius put the book down. "Yes, well….the thing is, I just don't want you to have to worry about it." Gaius turned back to face Merlin, his age seeming to carve into his face. "You have enough to deal with as it is."

Merlin grimaced, ducking his head and scratching his neck. "Yeah, well…I'll definitely have more to deal with if whatever Morgana dreamed _does_ come true."

Gaius chuckled wearily, shaking his head. "Let's just hope it doesn't."

**Well, hope you liked! Thanks for reading. **

**~whatswiththemustache**


	5. Trust

**Disclaimer: As you already know, I don't own anything but the plot... Characters, settings, and pretty much everything else are not mine. This story is for entertainment purposes only.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Trust**

Shadows clung to the tall, ominous trees, seeming to trail away from them and stain everything around them an inky black. An uncertain breath of wind seemed to flit around the reaching branches, its path twisting, turning, parting and joining. The anxiousness of the wind certainly wasn't helping Elsa's confidence as she trudged through the thick forest, having to stop and yank her cloak free of the brush every few minutes.

Even though Elsa _never_ got cold, the inconsistent gusts of wind that kept brushing across her face were making her feel strangely chilled, her arms becoming covered in goose bumps. Her teeth chattered slightly as she wrapped her arms around herself and clambered over a fallen tree that lay across the faint trail. She wasn't cold, she knew – she was totally and completely stunned at herself.

She had left the castle for the first time in _years_ – not only had she left it, but she'd also left the entire city. She was running away. For some reason, that only seemed to settle into her mind just then.

"I'm running away," Elsa murmured to herself. She slowed to a stop, turning to look back through the trees. She could just barely see the outline of the city of Arendelle, the majestic castle and the ships silhouetted in the fjord. "I'm _running_ _away_."

A smile spread across her face slowly, lighting her face as the fear fled. Elsa laughed, feeling breathless. "I can't believe I actually _did_ this…"

Her mind raced, finding possibility after possibility. What if she went far away from Arendelle – no one would know who she was. She could start a new life, without having to be trapped by her position. She could go _anywhere_.

Elsa ran her hands through her hair, unable to contain the wide grin that lit her face. _Freedom_. It was an amazing feeling. She sat down on the fallen tree, laughing quietly again. The mossy log felt softer than any cushioned chair ever had, and she ran her feet through the delicate blades of grass on the ground. Elsa knew she had to get far away from Arendelle before morning, but she didn't mind the long walk that was ahead of her. Thinking of what her future may hold, she could almost forget that she'd still have to hide her powers –

A pale glimmer caught Elsa's eye, and she looked down. And the look of joy on her face was replaced with one of horror.

Elsa leaped of the log and backed away, covering her mouth with her hands, gasping. The log was entirely encased in ice, and the frost was still spreading across the ground, gradually slowing down. The thick layer of moss was frozen solid, glistening in the faint moonlight, and the beautiful blades of grass at the base of the log were stiff and blue-hued, pointed at the tips like tiny daggers. Elsa felt like the frost was spreading across _her_ body too, only inside-out; her horror drowned her as a cold tear ran down her cheek.

On the ground beside the log, a tiny mouse had waited quietly, staring at the space where Elsa had been sitting. Now, the mouse was like a statue; its glassy eyes gazing into empty space, tiny paws lifted in the air and fragile tail frozen in place where it had been flicked skyward. The ice thickened even more, and Elsa could only stand in shock as the frost became opaque, hiding the mouse from view. It was dead.

"I'm sorry," Elsa whispered, taking a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry…" Elsa stumbled back, almost tripping on her cloak. She yanked it out from under her feet, trying to blink her blurry vision away as she turned and fled. Elsa clapped a trembling hand to her mouth, attempting to stifle the sobs that she knew were near. _Run away,_ she thought bitterly, running aimlessly through the dark and towering trees. _If only I could run away from myself._

All she could hear was a rushing in her ears as she ran, but as her cries hitched in her throat, Elsa felt a warm breath of wind brush her skin and rustle the greenery surrounding her. The distraught princess slowed to a halt, gasping and falling to her knees; wrapping her arms around herself, she lay on the firm, warm earth and took deep, reassuring breaths to try and slow her tears. Around her, the calm clearing seemed to pause, observing her silently.

"Why would you want to do that?"

Elsa gasped in shock, straightening abruptly and looking wildly around as the calm, collected voice reached her ears. She recoiled in surprise as she saw the tall, slender woman standing before her, a strangely wary look in her eyes.

Elsa pushed herself up from the ground awkwardly, forgetting her misery as she fiddled with her hands in mild embarrassment. She was a princess, albeit a runaway one, and it was practically unthinkable for her that she'd just let a total stranger see her crying. "Wh - what?" Elsa asked, flustered, as she registered the question that the other woman had just asked her.

The woman observed her calmly, her deep brown eyes taking Elsa in. The woman was wearing a flowing but simple tan dress with a black cloak thrown over it. Her brunette hair was dark and glossy, rippling gracefully over her shoulders and around her strong, attractive face. Behind her, a small fire flickered brightly against the darkness; there was a tidy camp around it, with a silver horse tethered to some brush a bit further from the flames. Elsa mentally chided herself for being so careless; with those hysterical sobs, she'd almost stumbled right into someone's camp and, possibly, camp_fire. _

After a moment of collected silence, the brunette spoke. "As you were running through the woods, you said that you wished you could run away from yourself." She tilted her head slightly, examining Elsa's tearstained face with concerned eyes. Elsa felt her cheeks burn a little as she remembered the thought that had run through her head; she'd had no idea that she'd actually said that aloud. Watching her closely, the other woman noticed Elsa's discomfort and smiled faintly, leaning back on her feet.

"Are you alright?" asked the brunette, changing the subject. Elsa let out a shaky breath and pushed her pale hair away from her face roughly.

"Yes, I was just…" Elsa drifted off, feeling out of place. Just what? There really wasn't an easy way to brush off how she'd been acting.

Thankfully, the other woman eased her awkwardness once again. She took a step back, raising a hand to gesture gracefully at her campfire. "You can come sit down, if you want," she offered, smiling warmly. "It seems like you could use a moment to rest."

Elsa nodded gratefully and followed the older woman to the fire. As they sat down onto the soft, needle-covered earth, the brunette introduced herself with a smile. "My name is Dezyra," she said softly, still watching Elsa closely.

"I'm Elsa," she said, folding her hands on her lap. "Thank you for helping me," Elsa trailed off, feeling unsure of herself again. The other woman – Dezyra – was so calm and collected, it was almost unsettling; still, she seemed kind and generous more than anything.

Dezyra shook her head slightly, her easy smile lingering on her face. "I was feeling particularly lonely in these empty woods just before meeting you. If anything, I should be thanking you for gracing me with your company." Her light voice carried a brush of amusement, easing Elsa's nerves. The princess relaxed a little and put her palms on the ground behind her, leaning back into a more comfortable position.

"Are you traveling alone?" Elsa asked, taking a quick glance around at Dezyra's tidy campsite; it seemed as if it were set up to accommodate just one person.

Dezyra grimaced slightly, ducking her head. "Yes, I'm alone. It's rare for me to be with anyone else, actually. I suppose I just don't fit in well…" She trailed off, her strong composure faltering for just a moment, before shaking her head quickly and giving a bright smile. "But I'm used to it. Solitude suits me."

Elsa smiled sadly, nodding. "I know what you mean…" She clenched her hands tightly, remembering the reason that she was out here at all.

Dezyra examined Elsa with a sharp gaze, taking a decisive breath. "Why are you alone out here?" She asked, sounding slightly hesitant – not wanting to pry, no doubt.

Elsa drew a deep breath, pausing. "Well…"

Before she could say anything, Dezyra leaned back apologetically, shaking her head. "You don't have to explain anything to me if you don't want to – I understand – "

Elsa smiled faintly, finding the other woman's apologies endearing. "No, I suppose it doesn't really matter," she said, easing Dezyra's worried look. "The thing is…I'm alone because I'm running away. I'm going to start a new life, where I don't have to worry about what people expect and where I can be who I am. I'm leaving Arendelle and never coming back."

Elsa stared at the ground as she said this, and was internally shocked at her words and the underlying tone of anger that colored them. She'd always felt more frustrated and trapped than angry at her situation, but thinking about it, she had every reason to be angry. She'd spent her entire life locked up in her room, and all because of the way she was born. It wasn't fair.

The sound of Dezyra's measured intake of breath brought Elsa back to the present. She looked up to meet Dezyra's understanding brown eyes.

Dezyra smiled sadly. "I thought it might be something like that," she murmured, glancing down at her hands, clasped in her lap. "To be honest, my situation isn't really that different from yours. I left the home that I had, hoping to find a better one. I'm still looking for that new world."

"So you're just traveling, then?" Elsa wondered. "Where are you going?"

Dezyra laughed, throwing her head back in a wave of glossy brown hair. "If I knew that, I might have made it by now," she said, smiling wryly. "I've been on the move for over a year now. I pick up the odd job, stay for a week or so in every town I come across, and then move out again. Somewhere, someone – eventually I'll find a reason to stop. But now, whenever I do stay in one place for longer than necessary, things tend to get out of hand, especially because of…well…"

Elsa tilted her head, brow furrowed, as Dezyra ducked her head in indecision before quickly glancing up at Elsa.

"Well," Dezyra sighed finally, straightening. "I suppose it doesn't really matter if you know. The main reason why I can't seem to fit in anywhere…it's because I have powers. I'm a sorceress."

Dezyra said that with finality, almost as if she were challenging Elsa to chastise her. On the contrary, Elsa sat back with wide eyes, shocked. _A sorceress? _Elsa thought wildly, gasping a little. _The first person I meet after running away from Arendelle is like me?_

Dezyra took in Elsa's shocked expression and immediately seemed on guard. "What?" she said defensively, frowning. "Why do you look so shocked?"

Elsa shook her head frantically, hands raised as if to ward away her mistake. "No, no! I didn't mean it like that – it's just – " Elsa stuttered, not wanting to burn the tentative bridge that she'd already built with this woman. "I was only surprised because you're the first person I've ever met that's, well, that's like me –"

Elsa trailed off suddenly as she realized what she'd said. _Stupid_! What if Dezyra somehow found out that Elsa was the princess and heir to Arendelle's throne? What if word got out, and everyone found out that she had had powers all this time?

But hearing Dezyra's sharp intake of breath, Elsa remembered something else that quieted all the other worries buzzing around in her mind.

_What does it matter? _

"Like you?" Dezyra asked quickly, cutting off Elsa'a train of thought. "By 'like you', you mean…"

Elsa smiled, relaxing. "Yes, that's what I mean." She said warmly, feeling strangely relieved. "I've…I have powers, too. I've had them all my life. That's why I'm running away, actually – so I can stop hiding."

Dezyra's eyes had grown wide, and she grinned openly as Elsa finished. "You too!" She exclaimed, laughing. "That's amazing! What luck that we would just bump into each other like this."

Elsa laughed along with the other woman, smiling widely. _If this is what it's like to have a friend, _she thought, _then I sure don't ever want out miss out again_.

"But then, about your magic –" Dezyra began, her eyes curious. "What are you practiced in? And how powerful are you?"

"Ah – well –" Elsa stumbled over herself, looking away from Dezyra and her exultant expression. _Oh, that._ "Um, well, actually I've never really trained…"

Dezyra frowned, puzzled. "You were born with it, right? I was, too. But what type of magic? Can you do the general set of spells, or are you better at healing and complex magic like that? Or are you more the instinctual type, with only practical usage?"

Elsa gaped at Dezyra's onslaught of questions, all of them unfamiliar to her. "No, none of those, I don't think," Elsa said hesitantly, twisting her fingers together. "I'm, well…I guess I'll just show you."

Elsa sighed, extending a gloved hand before her. It was trembling. Elsa took a deep breath, hoping that she wouldn't mess up. _Here goes…_

Elsa carefully pulled off the glove from her right hand. She balled her hand into a fist for a moment, closing her eyes, before smiling and looking happily at her closed hand. This was a feeling that she'd been missing for years.

Elsa opened her palm to reveal a small sphere of faint blue light, sparkling with possibility. Elsa extended her hand out towards the clear ground a few feet from the fire, and the sphere of light drifted purposefully to the ground, speeding up as it neared the earth. It touched the ground in an explosion of light, which faded to reveal the ground completely frozen over. Ice rushed across the earthy ground, racing up tree trunks and encasing low bushes and ferns; this time, however, the ice seemed to have a friendly glow that the ice from before didn't. The leafy branches waved in a faint breeze, sharp and icy but still alive. The linking crystals of ice grew rapidly, with overhanging branches reaching down in twinkling strings of frost.

Elsa's surge of magic faded, and the clearing dimmed. She released a deep breath that she hadn't been aware of holding, and lowered her hand slowly; she was all of the sudden aware of the broad grin that lit her face. That had felt…_good_.

A slightly shuddering gasp brought Elsa back to the present. Dezyra was standing across the campfire – now extinguished and dark – with her back stiff, jaw locked and eyes narrowed into a frown. Elsa looked at her, puzzled, but Dezyra immediately snapped out of her trance.

"Oh…" she murmured, turning to face Elsa with a growing smile. "That's...you have…you're an elementalist too…"

"An elementalist?"

"Ice magic –" Dezyra exclaimed, her eyes wide. "You're an elementalist – that's when you specialize in manipulating just one element, like water, or _ice – _but I've never met one like you…"

"Wait, are you an elementalist too?" Elsa asked, her pulse quickening. If Dezyra was like her too – then what kind of magic did she have? And how did she control it? There was so much that she could learn.

"Yes, I have powers like yours, just instead of ice –" Dezyra broke off suddenly, jerking her head sharply to look off into the forest to her left. Elsa frowned and looked in the same direction; she couldn't see anything, but she could hear it – a faint rustling noise, getting steadily louder and louder.

"What is that?" Elsa whispered, suddenly afraid. She had no experience in the outside world – f they were attacked, she would be absolutely no help to Dezyra.

"It's…hold on, wait here – " Dezyra strode off in the direction of the rustling, her steps strangely silent. Elsa reached out but stayed put; if she followed, she'd probably just hinder the other woman.

After a few tense moments, Dezyra emerged from the dense shadows, brushing aside a frozen tendril of leafy vines.

"It's a group of people, coming through the forest," Dezyra said, her voice animated with confusion and wonder. "They're looking for someone – I heard them saying things like 'she can't have gone far…"

Elsa froze, staring at Dezyra with wide eyes. The sounds of brush being pushed roughly aside and branches crashing together were getting closer. _She_ can't have gone far? If those people were looking for someone, a 'she'_…_ _could they have already noticed that I've disappeared?_ Elsa thought frantically, her heart pounding. _So soon? But who else would they be looking for in these woods, especially so many people…I can't let them find me! There's too much I have yet to learn!_

"No!" Elsa gasped, feeling her knees connect with the hard ground as she crumpled, hands covering her mouth. "It's too soon…I need –"

Dezyra rushed to her, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Are they looking for you?" She demanded, her voice urgent.

Elsa nodded, feeling tears spring at the corners of her eyes. "I think so. I don't know _how_ – but I have to get away, I can't let them find me –"

Dezyra nodded curtly, pulling Elsa to her feet. "They won't. Listen – I'm not only an elementalist; I can do other sorts of magic too. I can get you away from here. There's a transportation spell that I sometimes use for emergencies. It'll get you far away from here, and then I can meet you there in a few days. There's a lot I still want to tell you –"

Elsa gaped at Dezyra, stunned. "You'd – you'd do that for me – ?"

Dezyra smiled, her eyes warm and comforting. "We're the same, aren't we? People like us should stick together."

Elsa blinked, and in a second her mind was made up. There was no way that she'd let herself be caught – she was leaving Arendelle, once and for all. "Do it!" Elsa said quickly, stepping slightly away from Dezyra. "I'll wait for you."

Dezyra stepped back, her face solemn. She raised her hands and closed her eyes, murmuring an incantation that was barely audible to Elsa. It only took a few seconds, and then Dezyra lowered her hands and opened her eyes with a faint glimmer of gold. Elsa heard a rushing sound in her ears as a whirlpool of wind sprang up around her, picking up bits of earth and shards of frost in its wake.

Elsa felt herself being embraced by Dezyra's spell, and her vision faded into darkness. In the clearing, the spiral of wind that contained Elsa lifted up into the air, and with a gust of wind it spun out of existence. In a second, the earth and ice drifted to the ground, the branches of trees and bushes around stilled, and silence descended over the clearing.

Dezyra stood still for a moment as her eyes faded from bright gold to their usual dark brown. A small smirk spread across her face, and she bowed her head to examine the frosted ground.

"Sorry," she murmured slyly, laughing quietly. "Elimination of competition, that's all."

* * *

**Confusing? It seemed to me that this chapter is kind of topsy-turvy for Elsa, which is how it's supposed to be – I just hope it didn't seem too weird. Anyway, please tell me what you thought! Reviews are always appreciated =D**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	6. Trust: Part 2

**Ugh. Chapter six as promised, but it's really lucky to exist right now because I was sick all weekend, which is my designated writing time...anyway, I made it so yay. Thanks for all the reviews, people - I'm so glad everyone is enjoying this. =D So, R&amp;R, as usual...hope you like...I'm going to go take some aspirin after this. :/**

**Chapter Six: Trust Part 2**

The darkness seemed to pulse, compressing and pounding down on her body, pressing down on her lungs and forcing her to gasp aimlessly for breath. It lasted forever – but maybe, just a second – and suddenly it was lifting, brightening, with the intrusive shards of sunlight blinding her deprived eyes. She shut them reflexively, head spinning, body aching.

Elsa panted as she slowly regained use of her senses – she suddenly realized that she was kneeling over, her hands placed on a prickly ground, knees feeling scraped and raw in the same position. She kept her eyes closed, trying to ignore how her head was pounding fiercely – it felt like someone was repeatedly squeezing her skull at the temple from both the outside and inside. Still, Elsa quickly forced herself to get to her feet, wavering unsteadily, and squinted into bright, fresh morning light.

_What - _

Elsa placed her hands on her temples, pressing hard as if to calm her frenzied mind.

– _where am I?_

The forest around her was a bright, leafy green, with tall, fern-like bushes and low-branching trees – distinctly lacking in pine, it was unlike any forest around Arendelle.

– _and wasn't it just…night?_

Elsa's mind was wracked in discomfort, but she distinctly remembered it being very early in the morning, and very dark, just a moment ago.

_So bright – and why does it hurt so much?_ Elsa thought blankly, trying to remember. Who knew that traveling by a teleportation spell would be so uncomfortable?

_Oh – Dezyra - _

Elsa turned around slowly, stepping forward to maintain her balance, trying to learn more about her surroundings. Everything – trees, bushes, beams of transparent sunlight reaching down – was confusingly green.

_But why here? _Elsa asked herself, frowning and shutting her eyes again._ She told me to wait – but how will she ever find me here -_

A sharp snapping sound registered in Elsa's frantic mind, acutely contrasting against the rushing sound that was only in her mind. She turned quickly towards the noise, gasping and making her head spin again. _Dezyra – ?_

For a second, all Elsa could see was the contrasting colors of fabrics and objects against the blinding green landscape. Brown tunics and vests, dark coats, glistening weapons drawn.

It took her another moment to really see them.

Three men advanced slowly, arranged in an arc around her. From Elsa's left and right, she heard the faint rustling that could only meant that she was surrounded. They smiled hard, amused smiles at her, but Elsa could see the cruel purpose in their eyes. She stumbled back, balling her hands into tight fists.

_No…_

_**Earlier that day, in Camelot…**_

A pounding sound reverberated throughout the small room, disturbing the early-morning peace that had filled it just a moment before, and registering hazily in Merlin's sleepy mind.

"Merlin!" Gaius called, shoving open the door to Merlin's room with a bang. "Get up, or you'll be late."

Merlin, who was sprawled haphazardly across his bed, groaned. "Uhhhh…"

"Up!" Gaius repeated, his voice a shade annoyed. A moment later Merlin jumped, startled, as something hit him in the face – Gaius had thrown one of the shirts strewn carelessly around the room at him. Merlin jerked himself awake, blinking blearily and trying to shake off the fog of sleep that still filled his mind.

"Well, come on - I haven't got all day to stand around making sure you're awake," Gaius complained as Merlin slowly collected himself. "If I didn't come in here to wake you up every morning, you'd probably just sleep the whole day through."

"That would be nice…" Merlin mumbled groggily as he extracted himself from bed.

Gaius shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Anyone would think that you'd been up for a week –"

Merlin groaned again, running a hand through his messy hair and staring blankly into space for a moment. "Certainly feels that way," he mumbled.

Gaius grimaced, shaking his head again as he turned and shuffled out of the room. "Well, hurry up and get going, because you've got a whole day's worth of chores to get through. You can't leave Arthur waiting."

Merlin scoffed slightly at that, shaking his head in disbelief. Waiting? Arthur would remain fast asleep until Merlin got there to wake him – 'waiting' was no part of it. Still, Merlin gave himself one final shake before forcing himself to get ready for the new day. A few minutes later, he was on his way out the door, another day of being Arthur's manservant underway.

Soon enough, Merlin was pounding his way into Arthur's chambers, much as Gaius had done into his just a short while ago. After a swift knock, Merlin pushed open the door with one hand, balancing a tray with Arthur's breakfast on the other. He strode over to the table that lay just inside the doorway, setting down the breakfast tray with a clatter, before turning and starting over to wake up Arthur – and halting again as he came face to face with the prince. Arthur was already dressed and wide awake, eyebrows raised and hands on his hips.

Merlin blinked, taken aback, and for a moment the two just stared at each other. "Um – " Merlin finally said, at the height of eloquence.

Arthur tilted his head, smiling humorlessly. "Oh, _hello_," said Arthur in exaggerated wonder. "Fancy meeting you here – you know, I _never_ would have guessed."

"Er…" Merlin managed, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion.

Arthur crossed his arms, raising a brow and nodding as if to encourage Merlin on. After a second of silence, he straightened with a frown. "Merlin – do you even _attempt_ to do what you're told? – Or are you just _trying_ to annoy me?"

Merlin blinked again, his face blank. "I _am_ doing what I'm told," Merlin said defensively, raising his eyebrows innocently.

"Really?" Arthur asked sarcastically. "Because _I_ remember me informing you last night that I needed to be up before dawn today. I don't suppose you remember any of that, would you?"

Merlin frowned in bewilderment, scratching the back of his neck. "What?" He said blankly, honestly feeling confused. Arthur spread his hands, mimicking Merlin's muddled expression.

"_Hunting_, Merlin," said Arthur finally, his voice hard. "We're leaving on a hunting trip today. Does that ring any bells?"

After another blank moment, Merlin straightened up, making an 'o' with his mouth at the realization.

"_Ohhh_," said Arthur in sarcasm before shaking his head in disbelief. "It's already an _hour_ after sunrise. Everyone's going to be waiting for us. What were you doing, _sleeping in_?"

Merlin frowned, offended. "Well, so were you," said Merlin in annoyance. Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin, shaking his head in incredulity.

"You're unbelievable," said Arthur, exasperated, as he started towards the table behind Merlin.

"Yeah, well you're…" Merlin muttered, trailing off at Arthur's accusatory glare.

"Go on?"

"…hungry?" said Merlin cheekily, gesturing at the food with a smile.

* * *

An hour later, Merlin and the rest of the hunting party were assembled in the courtyard – all waiting for one tardy prince. Merlin sat on the steps, holding the reins of his and Arthur's horses in one hand and contemplating the nerve of Arthur. After all the whining that Arthur had done that morning, you'd think that he could at least be ready to go when everyone else was.

Merlin sighed, shaking his head slowly, and straightened up when he finally heard the long-awaited sound of heavy boots clacking down the stairs from the castle. Turning, Merlin watched as Arthur strode down the steps, smiling broadly.

"Ah – what a beautiful day," said Arthur cheerfully as he stopped to take a deep breath of the fresh morning air. Merlin stood with his arms folded, skepticism etched into his face.

"Oh, stop being so gloomy, Merlin," Arthur said, taking up his horse's reins and walking around the side of the horse to mount. "It's a nice, sunny day, we're going out hunting, and Camelot isn't in grave danger of falling to the usual deadly adversary – what more could you want?"

Merlin sighed, swinging himself up into his horse's saddle in time with Arthur. "Oh, nothing," said Merlin in exaggeration. "It's just that I seem to recall someone saying something about not keeping everyone waiting…"

Arthur nodded, smiling slightly. "Mm, you're right. But you know the difference between _me_ keeping everyone waiting, and _you_ keeping everyone waiting?" Arthur asked, looking over a Merlin as he settled into the saddle. "I'm the prince – and you're the servant."

Merlin raised his eyebrows, incredulous, as Arthur gave the signal and the hunting party finally set out. "Well, at least he was honest this time," Merlin muttered to himself, nudging his horse into a trot. As they rode out of the courtyard, Merlin glanced back at the lofty castle behind them, glimpsing movement in a window – the face of Lady Morgana as she watched the party ride leave, frowning in worry. Merlin stared, frowning, until Morgana drew away, leaving shadows in her place.

As the party rode through the lower town and out the city gates, Merlin frowned silently, deep in thought. The reason he'd forgotten that Arthur had told him about the hunting trip last night was because of the incident with Morgana – the nightmare that had sent her to Gaius in a panic. The incidents that Morgana had described did seem, unlikely, as Gaius had said, but Merlin knew better than to discredit something just because of how unlikely it was. After all that he and Camelot had been through, how likely something _seemed_ was totally irrelevant.

_If Morgana's dream _is_ a vision…_

Merlin shook his head slowly, grimacing. There was no way to know for sure, so it was pointless for Merlin to dwell on it. Still, the images that Merlin had got from Morgana's description – the ice, the Great Dragon, the tunnel – they gave Merlin a chill down his spine.

The hunting party rode on through the woods for some time, getting further and further from Camelot and the security it offered. The hunting parties always had to go at least a few miles away from Camelot so they didn't wipe out all the wildlife around the city; the further they ventured, the more _interesting_ their experiences tended to be. This time they rode for nearly an hour before stopping, leaving their horses tethered to some plump, emerald bushes and fanning out into the woods around them.

Merlin kept a few feet to Arthur's right as he used a beater's stick to rattle through any greenery that he happened to come across. Whenever he thought no one was looking, though, Merlin would pass right by any promising-looking shrubs, hoping to save any poor animal that might be trapped within it. Merlin hated hunting, no matter what Arthur said, and just didn't understand how worked up the prince always got as they made their kill.

From Merlin's left, Arthur crept along with his sword drawn, taking the utmost care to be quiet. "Merlin!" Arthur hissed, pausing to glare at him.

Merlin stopped too, confused. "What?" he whispered, eyebrows raised innocently.

"Could you keep it _down_?" he replied in frustration, gesturing roughly with his drawn sword. Merlin blinked, taken aback.

"Oh – sorry," he whispered back loudly, turning away with a slight smile.

As Merlin continued to rattle the beater's stick around in the brush, a small bird suddenly exploded from the greenery right at Merlin's feet. He jumped back, yelling, as the bird flapped its way past Merlin, its wings almost brushing his face.

Laughter erupted around him as everyone stopped, watching Merlin stumble back in shock. Arthur shook his head as he chuckled, leaning his blade against his shoulder, while Merlin stood back with one hand clapped onto his chest, panting and laughing a little as well.

Arthur chortled for a few seconds more before quelling his amusement. "Honestly – Merlin, you could be a clown."

Merlin shook his head slowly, exasperated but unable to help smiling in amusement. "You would have been startled, too," he said, laughing as Arthur recoiled indignantly.

"I certainly wouldn't have screamed like a girl because of a little _bird_," Arthur declared.

"I did not _scream_."

"That's what it sounded like to me," Arthur said lightly, twirling his sword with boastful ease.

Merlin released his breath in a puff, incredulous at Arthur's amazing ability to be such a _prat_. Before he could reply, Arthur began moving off again, swinging his sword.

"Come on, let's get a move on, everyone. There's no point in letting Merlin spoil such a perfect day just because he's scared of small birds."

Merlin glowered at Arthur, striding to keep up. "I didn't _spoil_ anything," Merlin protested. "Let alone this 'perfect' day, if you could call it perfect."

"I think you're just talented," Arthur continued, grinning. "The art of ruining someone's perfect day must be your specialty."

Merlin scoffed, shaking his head. "You could write a book on how to ruin someone's perfect day."

"Maybe – but at least it wouldn't be on how to be an _idiot_," Arthur replied, rolling his eyes. "You could probably write several."

Merlin had opened his mouth to protest, wrinkling his brow indignantly, when Arthur came to a sudden halt, throwing out a hand in warning. Merlin stumbled to a stop, almost crashing into Arthur.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked in a whisper after a moment of silence. Arthur shook his head, listening intently – just as a woman's shout sounded faintly, the noise coming from directly ahead of them.

Arthur spoke quickly to the men spread around them, and the other men who were armed came forward, eyes wide and alert. Arthur advanced, running at a crouch, and Merlin kept close behind, scanning the surrounding forest. As they rushed through the green woods, the sound of rough laughter and a woman's pleading voice met their ears.

Merlin's heart pounded as they darted around a thick clump of greenery and caught sight of the commotion.

Five armed, rough-looking men stood in a loose circle, surrounding two other people. One was a man – rough and bearded, he was smiling tauntingly as he gripped the other figure's arm tightly. With its back to them, the hood of the cloak pulled over the head, Merlin couldn't see much…but as the figure pulled away in feeble protest, the hood fell back to reveal the panicked face of a young woman, her white-blond hair falling across her face in messy strands.

Merlin felt as if he were frozen, standing a dozen meters away from the cloaked woman and her attackers. As if in slow motion, a tall, muscled man standing behind the woman moved forward and grabbed her roughly by the waist, lifting her slightly off the ground. Arthur and the other men roared furiously, pounding down the slight slope towards the attackers.

Merlin remained where he was, watching the events unfold with wide eyes.

As Arthur and the others raced towards them, the men attacking the woman began to realize that enemies were almost upon them. A few lifted their weapons bravely, while two other men turned tail and fled. The cloaked woman was still struggling in the grip of the large man, shouting something at him. The man gripping her arm looked sharply at Arthur as he leapt forward, just a few steps away – but Merlin's eyes were following the woman's movements, painstakingly clear against the blur of motion around her. He felt a thrill in his chest as she extended a hand out before her, reaching towards the bearded man with her fingers positioned into a stretching pose that Merlin was only too familiar with.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I hope this chapter is up to my usual standards even though I was sick while writing. Please tell me what you thought! The next update should be next week as usual. Til next time! **

**~whatswiththemustache**


	7. Missing

**Hey! Sorry for being so late in the day...busy-ness but at least it's still Tuesday. Anyway, I'm sorry - but today, no Merlin or Elsa or Arthur. I needed to show everyone what's going on in Arendelle. Which brings the question - does anyone in the audience care what happens to Anna? Because, you know, I could just have her walk into a well or something. Of course, if you do like her, then I do have a place for her in the script. Anyway, let me know - and thanks for reading! **

**Chapter Seven: Missing**

Anna heard the sound of a bird chirping at the back of her mind…and suddenly, she was awake.

She shook herself out of the daze she was in, looking blearily around her and noting in slight surprise that there was daylight outside already. Anna got to her feet stiffly, trying to remember why she had fallen asleep in this vacant room anyway. With a wide yawn, she stretched her arms out and moaned.

From overhead, the chirping of a bird sounded startlingly close to Anna's ears. Looking up, Anna immediately saw the small, tawny bird perched on the rafters overhead. It stared at Anna for a moment, eyes sharp, before twittering loudly in the empty room once more. It abruptly dived from the beam that it had rested on, spreading its wings and sailing out the window that had undoubtedly been open all this time. Anna turned to watch it go as it fluttered in the open air, swooping around the pillars of the castle and finally plunging out of sight.

The sight of the bird flying away left a deep sense of disquiet in Anna's chest. Watching it spread its wings and soar away, she'd suddenly remembered the events of the day before and all the questions that had been left unanswered. As it turned out, sleeping had only caused the confusion that Anna had felt to become even more muddled.

With a gloomy sigh, Anna trudged out of the room through the door that she'd left a crack open the night before. A chilly draft brushed past her face, and she frowned, speeding up. For some reason, the empty and silent castle was emitting a less-than empty and silent feeling today. The unease in Anna's stomach only intensified, and she rushed down a set of spiral stairs, her shoes clacking loudly against the stone floor.

As Anna descended down the main stairway into the entrance hall on the ground floor of the castle, a series of relieved gasps met her ears. Down below, a cluster of people were rushing to meet her.

"Princess Anna!" "Thank goodness, you're safe –" "– finally –"

Anna slowed, frowning, as they engulfed her. Two maids, the palace cook, several members of the high council, and a knight were among the reassured party. "What's going on?" Anna asked hesitantly, pulling back slightly.

"Oh, we were so worried, milady!" exclaimed Sara, the plump woman who acted as Anna's maid, drowning out the murmurs of the others. "Everyone has been searching – we thought they'd gotten _you_ too –"

Anna felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water right into the pit of her stomach. "What?" she asked urgently, placing a steadying hand on the rail of the staircase. "What do you mean – gotten me _too_ – what happened, what's wrong?"

The maid drew back, placing a hand over her mouth with eyes wide. An elderly man called Olson cleared his throat and stepped forward, clasping his hands behind his back and wrinkling his brow. "I'm afraid that we have some devastating news," he droned, voice flat and papery. "Your sister was not in her chambers this morning. We've searched the grounds and the town, but I feel that it is all rather pointless. The evidence does not indicate that she would be anywhere near Arendelle as of now."

Anna stared at the old man, mouth slightly open and forehead screwed up in a frown. "But – but, what – what evidence, what are you _talking_ about? Why search the grounds and the city – you should be searching the castle! Why would she just wander away?" Anna asked sharply, trying to make sense of what they were saying – and of what _she_ was saying. For some reason, she knew that what Olson had said was closer to the truth than her own words.

Olson snapped his mouth closed, having an acute dislike for ever being challenged. From behind him, the knight took a step forward. Ser Rickon was middle-aged and clearly in his prime, with bulging muscles and a firm, refined face. He took a breath, grey eyes consoling Anna before he'd even said anything.

"When we looked for Elsa in her chambers this morning, we found them to be chillingly cold and coated in ice. The windows were frosted over, and the door was practically sealed shut with the ice. The ceiling, the floors – everything was frozen over. Other than that, nothing's been harmed. And Elsa – well, she's just vanished."

Anna stared, mouth open, her heart pounding in her throat. _Ice_. Not a bucket of water – a bucket of solid ice. "No…" she whispered, gasping. She stumbled back, wheeling around and throwing herself up the stairs. Shouts and yells raced to catch her, but she didn't hear a thing. Pounding down corridor after corridor, she reached the door to Elsa's chambers in no time at all – it was hanging wide open, so different from the usual scene that Anna slammed to a halt, bracing herself with a palm on the doorframe.

A chilling sight waited just inside the door. Elsa's room was silent and still, shrouded in shadow that was hued a cold and icy blue color. With such a lack of light, Anna could almost overlook the ice that coated the room – except that it did more to decorate it. Sharp, menacing needles of ice extended in pointed fingers from the corners of the room, reaching like thorns into the center. Looking down, Anna saw that the ice covering the floor extended past the doorframe, tapering out of existence just under her own feet.

Elsa's chambers were like an icy prison, and it seemed that the prisoner had been withdrawn.

Anna stood unmoving, staring into the room. Ser Rickon, Olson, Sara and the others stayed silent, thinking to give Anna a moment to come to terms with the catastrophe. Her mind, however, was racing – she took quick, fleeting breaths as she thought back to the day before. The ice. The exact same ice – there was no doubt. And now this – but why?

"You think…you think she was kidnapped?" Anna asked quietly, turning to face Ser Rickon.

The knight raised his eyebrows, straightening. "It's our only conclusion. With the help of a sorcerer, someone has kidnapped the princess – probably to exact a ransom or some other level of control over Arendelle."

Anna frowned, shaking her head agitatedly. "No. That doesn't make _sense_ –" She spun around, taking a step towards Elsa's chambers. "This only proves it. Why would they kidnap her? Only because _I_ saw? But, then – why would they make her stay locked up all this time? What would have been the _point_?"

"My – my lady?"

"Don't you see?" Anna whirled around again, spreading her hands and meeting Ser Rickon's bewildered eyes. "All this time – Elsa has stayed locked up in her chambers, hiding from the world. It's because of this! The ice! This isn't _new_ – it's been here all this time. Only, yesterday – I tried to talk to her, and then this happened. The ice appeared. But Elsa wasn't startled, or shocked or anything – she was just scared, really scared. She knew about it – she just wanted to hide it from me."

Ser Rickon frowned, drawing breath. "Princess Elsa has remained in her chambers all this time because of her illness," he said hesitantly, not wanting to contradict Anna. "The king and queen were afraid that she would weaken if she strained herself too much."

Anna sighed, rolling her eyes. "That was years ago. I don't believe that she's been _sick_ for so long – and yesterday, when I visited her, she certainly didn't seem ill."

Ser Rickon shook his head slowly, resolute. "I'm afraid I don't see your point. If not kidnapped, then what has become of Elsa? I see no other explanation."

Anna took a step back, looking at the ground with a heavy sigh. "Something…" she muttered, biting her lip. "Something else…"

The knight shook his head once more and turned to speak to Olson, deciding to arrange several search parties and to put the word out that a ransom would be paid for Elsa's safe return. One by one they drifted away, shooting Anna consoling glances before slipping down dimly lit halls. Anna paid them no attention, and when she was finally alone she let herself slide slowly to the floor, back against the wall near the doorway to Elsa's frozen chambers. Anna turned her head, staring at at the thin coat of ice that had ventured into the hallway.

Anna was sure that Elsa hadn't been kidnapped. It didn't fit, not at all; it was plain to see. If someone had kidnapped Elsa, then why would they have kidnapped her only when Anna found out about the ice? To keep it a secret – well, then that purpose would already have been defeated. Then – to ensure that Elsa wouldn't tell Anna about it? Maybe, but if Anna already knew by then…then what was the point? No, there had to be another reason…

_Elsa was hiding the ice from me_, Anna thought, trying to sort things out in her mind. _So, when I found out about it…she left?_ Could that be it? If Elsa had left on her own free will, just to keep the secret of the ice hidden from Anna…

Anna thought back to Elsa's horrified face, her balled fists and her urgent words. _"_Please_, Anna," Elsa begged, her voice shaking. "Please, go."_

"All this…" Anna whispered, her voice quivering. "…to keep a secret…from me?"

* * *

The double doors to Arendelle's council chambers were tightly shut, sealing in the low, murmuring voices within. Anna marched steadily past the two guards standing by the doors, meeting their eyes briefly. Both guards shifted back, ducking their heads in compliance, and Anna didn't slow before shoving the heavy oaken doors open. The quiet talk within immediately ceased as Anna purposefully entered the room, venturing forth to the broad table that was the only furniture of the hall and placing her hands on the back on a tall chair that stood there.

The council members maintained their silence for only a moment.

"Princess Anna!" several members exclaimed, murmuring undecidedly. "How kind of you to grace us with your presence," one man in particular said loftily, standing.

Anna looked the man firmly in the eye, her jaw set. Segarr Hermerran, Arendelle's master of coin, was a tall and willowy man with a severe, manicured mustache and goatee. His small, almost beady eyes missed nothing, and anything that was overlooked would surely be picked up by his equally sharp ears or nose. Anna had always felt a significant dislike for the man, no matter how hard she tried to view him in an unbiased way; however, the fact remained that Hermerran was Arendelle's master of coin, and he was very stingy with the currency that he was in charge of. Anna supposed that that made him good at his job, but to her it always seemed rather selfish.

Anna took a breath, her gaze unwavering. "I don't think that she was kidnapped," declared Anna resolutely.

Hermerran raised an eyebrow, a tiny smile flitting across his face. "Oh?" he said, his voice glaringly condescending. "And why would you think that?"

Anna sighed, averting her eyes in frustration for a second. That was another reason she didn't like Hermerran – he always treated her as if she were a baby. "Elsa already _knew_ about the ice – it had been in her chambers for a long time. I think that the ice was the reason she's been retired to her chambers for so long. Then, yesterday, I went to see her – and when we were talking, the ice appeared. Elsa was scared, but not _surprised_, and _obviously_ she didn't tell anyone about it or try to get rid of it, even though she said she would when I left." Anna explained calmly, taking a deep breath. "So, she already knew about it, and was trying to keep it a secret. I think that when I found out about it yesterday, she…well, she decided to leave. She wasn't kidnapped – she left."

When Anna finished her speech, the council members exchanged conversing glances, murmuring to each other quietly. Hermerran raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips as if deep in thought.

"Hmm," Hermerran mused, ducking his head to examine the stone table before him. "An interesting theory. I suppose – but, my lady, I'm afraid your idea has its holes. For example – if she ran away on her own, then what was the source of the ice? It was clearly the fruit of sorcery."

Anna hesitated, taking a breath. "Well," she said quietly, looking down. "I have an explanation for that, too. When I said that the ice was the reason for Elsa's retiring for so many years – well, I meant that she had withdrawn to her chambers to keep it a secret. I think that…the ice was her doing."

Complete silence met her words. Anna glanced around, raising her eyebrows in hopes to convince the shocked council members. "She must have some kind of powers," Anna said quickly, spreading her hands as she explained. "Ice magic – from a curse or something. _That_ would explain why she disappeared all of the sudden all those years ago, and why she never could see anyone. It was because she wanted to keep her powers a secret – probably for _our_ protection. She was so scared; I think because she doesn't really know how to control it. That's why the ice went crazy in her room."

Anna finished in a rush, not wanting to let anyone cut her off. Finally she caught her breath, meeting Hermerran's uncertain eyes. "It makes sense," Anna said imploringly, her eyes wide. "I'm sure of it."

Hermerran let out a shaky breath, eyes narrowed. "Princess…what you are saying…you do not understand – the _implications_ –"

"Yes, I _do_!" Anna exclaimed hotly, balling her fists. "Would you _please_ stop treating me like such a child, and just _listen_. I _do_ understand what that would mean. But if it's true – then you can't just _ignore_ it, not if it could make the difference in whether we find her or not."

Hermerran shook his head slowly, eyes lowered. From his left, an elderly man with a bushy gray beard spoke up. "My lady," he said in a gravelly voice, "Pardon me, but your parents had always said that Elsa had retired to her chambers because of a rare illness that she had acquired. She needed to remain isolated for rest and, as they said, 'meditation'."

Anna sighed. "They knew about it, of course. That story was just a cover-up - I mean, Elsa never showed any signs of being sick."

Hermerran coughed, clearing his throat. "I cannot believe that the king and queen would lie to the council and their entire kingdom over something like this...even if what you are saying is true. I'm sorry, but how could it be? How could Elsa have kept this from everyone for so long? Someone would have found out."

Anna took a step back, rolling her eyes in frustration. "They would have, if only Elsa had ever left her room. But she _didn't_! That's the point - it's the only explanation."

Hermerran shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I believe that you're just worried about your sister. Perhaps you should retire, and get some rest?"

Anna sighed loudly, before turning and striding out of the room. _Maybe they won't do anything about this,_ Anna thought angrily, _but I will._

* * *

**Thanks for reading, and please review! Don't forget to tell me what you think on the Anna situation. Anyway, next update - next week! Talk to you later. :) **

**~whatswiththemustache**


	8. What They Don't Know

**Hey there! Early update today. Hope you like, and please review...:) **

**Chapter Eight: What They Don't Know**

Merlin looked on in shock as the cloaked woman stretched her fingers into the open air, about to use the magic that Merlin knew she had. He could feel it in his very soul; the chill that raced up his spine existed solely to warn him that powerful sorcery was about to take place…

…And Arthur was about to run into it headfirst. The vigorous prince slashed his sword at the bearded man who had been gripping the woman's arm in his hand, and he stumbled back, releasing her. While Arthur pounded into the first man, the one gripping the cloaked woman in his arms began to retreat in shock. He glanced around, looking for a way out, and upon finding one, he threw the cloaked woman away from him as if she were nothing more than a rag doll. As the big man ran off into the woods, the cloaked woman fell to the ground, landing heavily against a thick, gnarled tree and settling to the earth in a crumpled heap. Merlin watched her extended arm slam into the ground with her, her hand rebounding slightly and finally falling slack.

Merlin suddenly unfroze as he took in the unmoving woman on the ground and the intense fighting that was still going on around her. Though the men who had been attacking the woman seemed like they wanted nothing more than to flee, Arthur and the other men from Camelot were reluctant to let them go so easily. The better-equipped and better-trained members of the hunting party pressed the other men fiercely, dealing them less-than-crucial blows – but only just.

As Arthur continued to exchange blows with the bearded man, Merlin rushed to the fallen woman and knelt down beside her hesitantly. He pulled down the hood which had been thrown up over her head when she fell, his fingers trembling slightly. Her face was pressed against mossy roots of the thick tree that she'd been thrown into, eyes closed and features peacefully slack. Merlin gulped as he saw the lines of blood trickling down the side of her face, running together slowly and beginning to pool on the ground beneath her.

A few feet away, Merlin glimpsed the bearded man back away from Arthur quickly and dash off into the woods. Arthur brandished his sword at the retreating figure angrily, shouting. "You'd better run!"

The woods fell quiet as the fighting died and everyone gathered around the unconscious woman. Arthur knelt down opposite of Merlin and turned the woman so that she was lying flat; upon seeing the blood that was trickling down the side of her face, Arthur drew breath in a hiss.

"Cowards…" he spit out, shaking his head.

"She's breathing okay, and her pulse seems strong," Merlin said slowly, trying to use the skills Gaius had taught him while squashing the thoughts whirling through his mind. "And the cut on her head is shallow…the only problem is, she might have a concussion."

"Okay," Arthur said, giving Merlin a strange look. "Do you think we can move her, then?"

"M-move her?" stuttered Merlin, mind racing. _Move her to Camelot?_ But she was a sorceress – and Merlin had yet to figure out her intentions toward Camelot and, more importantly, Arthur. _If she's against the Pendragons, it'll put Arthur in danger to bring her._

"Yes, _move_ _her_," Arthur was saying, exasperated. "What did you think we'd do, just leave her here in the middle of the woods?"

"Er – well –" Was it worth the risk? _Of course, if Arthur wants to take her to Camelot, then we're taking her to Camelot – nothing I say will change that. _Then again, if he had to, Merlin could always _do_ something…_But what if she's innocent? We have to help her. _

"…yeah, that should be fine."

Merlin's voice was suddenly calm as he thought back to what had happened just a few seconds ago. That feeling he'd gotten when she'd been about to use magic – the chill racing down his spine – it hadn't been a _bad_ feeling. Not one of foreboding, or unease – it had actually been pleasant feeling, one of wonderment and familiarity. If Merlin couldn't trust his instincts, then everything was as good as lost already. The vibe he got from this strange sorceress was a good one, so he was just going to trust that.

As Arthur ordered some men to retrace their steps and get the horses, Merlin remained where he was, examining the unconscious woman. Looking at her attire and appearance, he was beginning to think that she must be from a noble family. Her thick, dark blue cloak was heavy and made of good, strong material, and it was clasped together at the throat with an elaborate brass pin. The dress that she wore underneath the cloak was obviously expensive; made with multiple fabrics and colors, the design was too elaborate and decorative for a commoner to own.

Aside from her clothing, the woman simply _looked_ like she was of noble blood. Her thick, blonde hair, her delicate facial features, and the smooth paleness of her skin all made her look like she could be a princess.

The sound of Arthur clearing his throat loudly startled Merlin out of his train of thought. "C'mon, Merlin," said Arthur loudly, sarcasm coloring his words. "Stop gawking, it's rude."

"Wha –" Merlin leaned back, sitting squarely on the ground and looking over his shoulder to see Arthur holding back a laugh. "I was_ not_ gawking," he protested, feeling his face burn. "I was just going to say, I think that she might be a noble or something. Her clothes is really expensive-looking, and…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Arthur agreed, letting Merlin change the subject. "I'd be willing to bet that she comes from a noble family. Most nobles wear their house coat of arms on a pin or embroidered onto their clothes…"

"Well, there's this," Merlin said, indicating the pin used as a clasp on the woman's cloak. The tiny design etched into the metal surface was of a sailing ship being tossed by rough waves, with a beaming sun peeking between the clouds.

Arthur knelt down beside Merlin, examining the pin. "Huh. That may be it, but I don't recognize the pattern. I guess we can check when we get to Camelot."

Merlin nodded, watching Arthur draw an agitated breath and tap his fingers against his leg. The prince began pacing, pausing every so often to listen in case the others were on their way with the horses. Merlin, meanwhile, sat back against the old tree, leaning his head on the rough bark.

"I don't think that's making them come any faster," Merlin told Arthur dubiously as the prince continued to walk in an undecided circle. Arthur scoffed, stopping, just as the thundering of hooves reached their ears.

"You were saying?" Arthur said, not being able to resist having the last word. Merlin was already standing up, and as the rest of the hunting party rode into sight, Arthur knelt down to gather up the unconscious woman in his arms. In no time at all everyone was mounted, with the injured woman slumped over the neck of Arthur's horse. Arthur held one arm around her torso, trying to keep her balanced.

"Okay," Arthur called out, the anxiety still present in his voice. "Let's get her back to Camelot."

* * *

Merlin rode just behind Arthur, staring at the prince's back with a frown as the party raced through light and shadow. They'd been riding at a hard gallop for over half an hour, and the woman that Arthur was carrying had not stirred. Merlin gave an insecure sigh, clenching his jaw.

Merlin couldn't stop thinking about the dangers of what they were doing, especially since Arthur didn't have a clue. This woman had magic – beyond a doubt. Merlin had originally worried about her intentions towards Camelot, and the harm that she could inflict if they brought her there – but now, he was seeing a whole set of new problems. This young woman, with her powers and her injury, could be at a terrible risk in Camelot.

_What if she's unaware when she wakes up? _Merlin thought, clenching his fists in frustration. _What if her magic gets out of control? If she's discovered – _

Merlin gulped, closing his eyes. – _if she's discovered, she'll be executed for sure. _

As Merlin contemplated on this horrible new thought, he heard a drumroll of hoof beats coming from his right. Arthur, Merlin, and the rest yanked their horses to a halt; the tired animals reared back and chewed at their bits in irritation as their riders looked into the forest warily. To the right was a well-worn pathway that was used mainly by Camelot patrols when they were circling around the city. Sure enough, after a few moments in which the thunder of horses steadily increased, a flash of red became visible through the trees; it was only about half a dozen of Camelot knights, with Sir Leon in the lead.

"Leon!" Arthur shouted in relief, circling his horse around to meet the other knight. Leon rode up quickly, his face wrinkled in concern.

"Sire," Leon said respectfully, examining the still-unconscious woman slumped in front of Arthur. "What…who is she?"

Arthur glanced down at his charge, the concern back on his face. "We don't know – she was being attacked by a group of men, but before we could get her out of there she was hurt. Merlin says she might have a concussion –" at this point he shot Merlin a skeptical look "– which isn't much to go on anyway, coming from him, but regardless, we had to bring her along. She needs Gaius's attention."

Merlin stared at Arthur in indignation. "Well, _excuse_ me, but I _do_ live with a physician," he protested heatedly. "It'd be hard _not_ to pick up a few things."

"For most people, yes, but then again, you're _you_, Merlin," Arthur said briskly, before shaking his head. "And anyway, we don't have time for this. We need to hurry back to Camelot. Come on!"

With that, Arthur spurred his horse forward, and the group was off in a flurry of hooves and motion. Merlin shook his head in exasperation, shrugging, before starting his horse onwards to catch up with the others, already racing out of sight. It was only a few minutes more of riding before they were thundering through the city gates, up through the town and across the drawbridge into the castle courtyard. The air was filled with the choppy clattering of hooves on the cobblestone ground as they cantered to a stop, wheeling their mounts around in a rush.

Merlin leaped down from his horse in time with Leon, who rushed over to help Arthur lower the unconscious woman to the ground. As castle servants began to dash out to take the lathered horses from the patrol and the hunting party, Merlin stood back and watched Arthur and the other knights hurry the injured woman up the stairs, on their way to Gaius's chambers. Despite this excitement, something else was drawing his eye.

When they'd come racing into the courtyard, it seemed that the Lady Morgana and her maid, Gwen, were just making their way back into the castle. As the commotion started, the two had stopped in the middle of the stairway, and even now, as Arthur and the others disappeared into the castle, Morgana and Gwen had not moved. Merlin jogged up the staircase, following Arthur but still examining the two onlookers.

Gwen was looking over at Morgana with a slightly concerned look on her face. She leaned closer to Morgana, who was staring at the castle with her back to Merlin. Gwen's soft voice drifted over to reach his ears.

"Morgana –" Gwen inquired hesitantly, tightening her hands on the covered basket that she grasped. "My lady – are you well?"

Morgana suddenly whipped around, and Merlin faltered in shock, staring at her.

Morgana's face, normally pale, was white as a sheet; her eyes were wide and her lip was trembling. She frantically turned to Gwen, breathing in jagged breaths, before catching sight of Merlin, now just a few steps away.

"What – Merlin…" Morgana whispered, stepping towards the uncertain servant. "Who…who is she?"

Merlin met Morgana's terrified eyes with his own bewildered ones; he raised a tentative hand to point in the direction of Gaius's chambers. "Er…she was being attacked, and she was hurt…they're taking her to Gaius –" Merlin answered vaguely, confused at Morgana's fear.

As Morgana took another desperate breath, ducking her head to stare at the ground, Merlin felt a jolt of déjà vu at her expression – the look of a caged animal, frantic at the knowledge that it was trapped. Merlin thought back to the night before, remembering having seen this same expression in Morgana's hysterical eyes.

Merlin gasped silently, eyes wide, and started forward, reaching for Morgana – but she was already rushing away in a flurry of skirts, her ragged breathing remaining in Merlin's ears. Gwen shot Merlin an apologetic look, following after Morgana. "I'll take care of her," the maid called over her shoulder, her footsteps clacking away.

Merlin stood, shocked, as everyone dissipated on their way to going about their lives; the courtyard was suddenly echoingly silent, but Merlin's mind was racing. That look on Morgana's face – her panic-stricken outburst that night in Gaius's chambers – and this…

"_First…a patrol rode in, and there was a woman…she was hurt, I think."_

Morgana's description of the nightmare she'd had…_it's coming true_, Merlin thought, stunned. _Not a nightmare…a vision._

* * *

Morgana raced down the stone halls of Camelot, her breath catching in her throat. Through the rushing sound in her ears, she distantly heard Gwen stumbling after her, but Morgana didn't slow – caught in a wave of panic as she was now, she could barely think.

"_Morgana_ – what's wrong?" Gwen shouted, gasping for breath. "Where are you going?"

Morgana shook her head, faltering and bracing herself against a cool stone wall. After only a moment's pause, she was off again – she had to get a better look. If anything, it might stop the onslaught of memories that was now plaguing her, filling her mind to its fullest –

-_the patrol raced into the courtyard in a thunder of hoof beats, Arthur leaping off his horse to help down unconscious woman that had shared his saddle, her heavy cloak flapping in the momentum; suddenly, everything was dark, with only a terrifying face sticking out at her from the gloom, and then a burst of fire – it slowed, stopping just before it reached her, its color fading to a pale, frosty _ice –

Morgana squeezed her eyes shut quickly, trying to dispel the images that sent tremors of terror surging through her body and mind. As she slowed, Gwen caught up with her grabbing her arm and trying to give Morgana words of comfort; the frantic lady didn't even hear her, and she jerked her arm out of Gwen's grasp, pushing on.

-_the black lake appeared, its surface glistening in the light of the moon; it was suddenly alive with bright and vibrant light as the tendrils of color raced across its surface, magically dancing higher and higher above the water's still surface; the strange tunnel spun around her, the shards of ice protruding dangerously close; as she spiraled downwards, the darkness closed, but not before she could make out a familiar face down below, trapped amidst the ice's frigid jaws – _

Morgana shook her head sharply, registering the new memory that she'd forgotten – the face trapped in that tunnel, looking up at her – it was so familiar, yet different in an infinite way, and now, Morgana couldn't even remember what that face had looked like. The fear snagged everything away, wrenching the fleeting memory from her grasp. She didn't stop, and kept running.

-_the silhouette stood out sharply against the silver moon in the dark sky, the very sight striking fear into her heart; as the figure turned slowly to face her, the eyes lit up in a burning gold light, and then everything was falling apart…_

Morgana gasped, too scared to be relieved but to desperate to be reluctant, when she rounded the corner to Gaius's chambers after what seemed like a lifetime of running. Morgana slid to a stop, slamming a hand into the doorframe, and breathlessly gazing into the room. Gwen panted quietly as she came to a stop beside Morgana.

The door to Gaius's chambers had been left hanging open, letting Morgana view the goings-on unnoticed. Several winded knights stood back, watching uncertainly as Gaius rushed about, gathering supplies and doing who-knows-what. Arthur was standing protectively over the spare cot in the room, with Leon by his side; everyone seemed reluctant to leave in case another emergency broke lose. And there, on the cot…she had been laid down on the rough-spun blankets carefully, her limbs arranged gently. Her cloak had been removed, revealing an expensive and familiar dress beneath. Her face was splashed with blood, bits of earth and leaves clinging to her skin, but Morgana still had a clear, unobstructed view.

_-the woman was walking away, her arms at her sides, fragile blue gown fluttering as everything crumpled around her; the dark woman beckoned, and then the blond woman turned, looking back just once, eyes flashing- _

Morgana hissed in a breath, clenching her fists. _It's her._

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you think. Next update might actually be in this week, but if not expect for next Tuesday. **

**~whatswithmustache**


	9. Misunderstood

**Hey there! Busy right now so now long and boring AN. Thanks for reading! **

**Chapter Nine: Misunderstood**

"Princess Elsa of Arendelle – eldest daughter and heir to the throne."

Merlin jumped as Arthur's voice rang out unexpectedly from the doorway to Gaius's chambers, his boots clomping loudly on the wooden floor. Arthur held a faded piece of parchment before his face, walking over to the unconscious woman's bedside where Merlin was seated.

Merlin managed to respond with an elaborate 'huh' before he could register what Arthur was saying. Arthur rolled his eyes, explaining.

"I found this in the library. It took a little digging, but it turns out that the clasp on her cloak is an ancient family heirloom of the Arendelle royal household. Also, her boots are decorated with the Arendelle seal."

Merlin straightened from his slumped position, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Her _boots_?" Merlin asked, smiling slightly in bemusement. "Wow – you're sure thorough…"

"Yes, well that's kind of in the job description – a prince has got to be thorough, especially when his servants are decidedly _not._"

Merlin shook his head, smiling ruefully, before turning to look over at the sleeping patient – _Elsa. A princess_, he thought, a strange feeling stirring in his gut. _Of course. _

Arthur came to a halt beside Merlin, tapping his feet sharply against the floor. "What I don't understand is why she was all alone out here, so far from Arendelle. It didn't look like she'd been in the hands of those men for any time at all – I think that they'd just met when we came."

Merlin frowned, leaning back. "Yeah, I was just thinking about that. She should've had guards or an escort or something around her, but there was no one else around."

Arthur pursued his lips, nodding in agreement. "Exactly. I guess we won't know until she comes to – by the way, has there been any change?"

Merlin shook his head regretfully. "No…Gaius still says that she should be fine and wake up soon, but it's already been a day. He thinks that it's just exhaustion and stress, not her injury, that's keeping her down."

"Well, she'd better wake up soon. My father is at wit's end about this whole thing – since Camelot and Arendelle are on friendly terms, we have to be careful not to take a misstep or we could create yet another enemy for Camelot."

Merlin sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes. "It's always about the matters of state, isn't it? Never just friendly concern. Honestly – you nobles could learn a thing or two from commoners in that area."

Arthur stifled an incredulous laugh, tilting his head. "_Really_?" He asked with a badly suppressed smile. "Like _what_, pray tell?"

"_Like_…common courtesy." Merlin said decisively, meeting Arthur's gaze directly. Arthur scoffed, spreading his hands.

"Erm, _no_, actually, Merlin," he replied, shaking his head in amusement. "We have this thing called _royal_ courtesy, and as you know, _everything_ is better when it's royal."

"Everything?" Merlin answered drolly. "Even when it's a royal pain in the –" Before he could finish that unfortunate sentence, Merlin was cut off by the sharp sound of Gaius clearing his throat. Merlin and Arthur looked around to see Gaius entering his chambers slowly, wearing his usual grimace.

Arthur greeted Gaius with a nod that Gaius merely waved off as he eyed Merlin reproachfully. "Hard at work, I see." Gaius commented dryly, noting Merlin's relaxed position on the chair by the patient's cot. "Merlin, I hope you realize that when I said to _keep an eye on her_, I didn't mean _quite_ such a close and intent one."

Merlin got up with a marginally guilty expression, which was only amplified by Arthur's smirk aimed his way.

"Well, now that you're going to start actually _doing_ things…I have some things for you to do." Arthur told Merlin in a mockingly cheerful voice. Merlin sighed dramatically before following Arthur slowly from the room, only stopping at the doorway to look back. The sleeping figure on the patient's cot was still, as it had been for the past day since they'd gotten back from that fateful hunting trip, but Merlin would practically _feel_ the potential of her waking. A good thing or a bad thing, he couldn't say…but he knew that he'd do his best to save her. Yes, she was part of this latest premonition of Morgana's, but that didn't mean that she was guilty of anything – and besides that, Merlin had already decided that she wasn't evil. He could feel it. It was just the strangeness of the situation – a princess with magic, wandering through Camelot. Who would have guessed?

"_Mer_lin!" Arthur's impatient call sounded back through the hallway to Merlin's ears. Gaius looked up, eying Merlin, who quickly took a step back, wanting to avoid another rebuke. Before he left, Merlin turned to gaze directly at the limp form of the unconscious princess, wishing to convey his thoughts, his fears. For now, though – _wake soon…Elsa._

* * *

An hour later, Merlin was hard at work, much as Arthur had promised he would be. Doing _what_, though – Merlin was having trouble seeing the point of all this lugging things around, dumping them somewhere else, and then repeating the process with something else. Arthur's nonsensical orders seemed annoyingly like busy-work to Merlin, and if it was, then its purpose was surely fulfilled.

Unfortunately, this work didn't fill his mind as much as it did his hands. As Merlin was loath to discover, being away from Gaius's room and the innocent presence of Elsa made it a lot harder for Merlin to be so sure that she was in fact innocent of anything. Disjointed bits of the past few days whirled through his mind – the men who had been harassing Elsa, the princess's wound and its unsettling effects, Morgana's reaction to her appearance. This dead-end train of thought as well as the crushingly heavy tapestry that Merlin was trying to haul down to the washing rooms was an effective block to the goings-on in the rest of the world, so Merlin was oblivious as he struggled across the junction of two different corridors. It was the sharp intake of breath that alerted him, and he spun around, only to lose his grip on the bulky tapestry, buckling under its weight.

"Ugh – what –" Merlin let out a frustrated sigh as he struggled underneath the suffocating weight. Finally he shoved the hefty material off of him, scrambling to his feet and turning. Behind him, watching intently with a fearful expression…was Morgana.

"My lady!" Merlin exclaimed, glancing behind him at the crumpled mess on the floor. "I, uh – sorry – er…are you alright?"

Morgana was silent, staring at Merlin's face with wide eyes. Her lip trembled, and she blinking rapidly as she ducked her head, looking to the ground.

"Morgana…" Merlin asked hesitantly, afraid of what she might answer. What had she seen – what had been in her dreams this time?

"Merlin – I'm sorry – forgive me, I just…" Morgana's voice was a timid whisper, and her eyes darted around the room, as if she was looking for a way to escape. After taking a deep breath, she met Merlin's eye with her own.

"I needed to...speak to you..."

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked slowly, his voice wary. Thankfully, Morgana didn't seem to notice. She raised a hand to her chin, trembling slightly, and shut her eyes.

"I – it's another nightmare. I'm sure you know about them…about this last one, too." Morgana paused, as if waiting for Merlin's confirmation. Realizing this, Merlin fumbled for a reply.

"Well –"

Merlin paused as Morgana took a sharp breath, and continued. "But no one understands – they just don't _see_ – I told Gaius, but he wouldn't _listen_ –" Morgana stumbled forward unsteadily, catching herself by bracing her hand against the cold stone wall. Merlin took a step forward, his hands raised but unsure of how to help.

Morgana took s shuddering breath and looked up to meet Merlin's eyes with her wide and fearful ones. "Merlin – what I saw, in my dream – she was there." Morgana's voice dropped to a whisper. "The woman that you and Arthur brought yesterday…I saw her. She – you can't _trust_ her, Merlin!"

"Why – what did you see?" Merlin felt the panic rise up in him now, too. What had she seen, other than the hunting party riding in with Elsa unconscious in Arthur's arms? What could be so terrible? "What did she do?"

Morgana shook her head slowly, her face crumpling. "I…no one ever…I shouldn't say."

Merlin saw the problem instantly – of course, she would think that he wouldn't believe her. Wasn't that a problem that Merlin came across every single _day_? "Morgana – don't worry, I _will_ believe you. Whatever you say that you saw in your dream…I won't just ignore it."

Morgana laughed shakily. "I – you must think I'm crazy. Doesn't _everyone_, when I'm like this?"

Merlin shook his head, taking a step closer. He gulped, thinking of how she must feel – how much her situation eclipsed his. At least he wasn't the king's _ward_ – and no matter how much he feared being discovered, he knew what he was doing. He could hide it – but could Morgana?

"No – everyone understands. It's not your fault. But please, Morgana – if it's important – you _have_ to tell me. I promise I'll believe you."

Morgana gave Merlin a strange look, frowning. "There's nothing…but, what could _you_ possibly do? What could _anyone_…the only reason I came to you, Merlin, is because…just don't trust her. Whatever you do. She'll fool you, trick you – and then it'll be too late. Don't _trust_ her!"

Merlin frowned in confusion, straightening. "But – why do you think that _I'm_ the one who's going to trust her?" Of course, Merlin had already decided to trust Elsa, but Morgana couldn't know this. Why was she so keen to keep Merlin from trusting Elsa? Unless… "Morgana…in your dream…was I there?"

For the longest moment, Morgana was silent – and the answer to Merlin's question was clear. He felt a cold feeling of dread spread through his body. Whatever Morgana had seen – it was something that had involved Merlin trusting Elsa, and that had gone horribly astray. _What if I was wrong? _Merlin thought, his mind turning frantic. _I should never have let them bring her here…_

Morgana finally made a sound, taking a deep breath. "I – I'm sorry. Just – I don't know what I – forget it." She straightened and took a step back, shaking her head. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, Merlin."

Merlin cast aside his own worries as his forehead twisted in concern. "No, Morgana! You didn't – it's fine, I'll believe you –"

He was about to run after her, to grab her arm and try to make her see, when she turned, glaring with hard eyes. "Merlin. _Please_. Forget it." She wore a scared scowl, and she spit out those words in such a staccato beat that Merlin would have been wary of her fury – if only he hadn't known how scared she really was, underneath her mask. But aside from that – Merlin could also see the things she was scared _of_. Not just the visions and whatever terrible scene she's witnessed. A deeper and older fear – she was afraid of admitting the truth to Merlin. Telling him what she'd seen and planning with him to try and prevent it – wouldn't' that be like openly acknowledging that her dreams weren't just dreams? That they were the result of magic?

Merlin stopped short, letting his reaching hands fall slack. Morgana raised her eyebrows fractionally, and Merlin blinked, nodding.

"Okay. I promise. You don't have to worry."

Morgana seemed to deflate slightly, her tight shoulders relaxing as she let out a breath. She gave Merlin a tiny smile, nodding slightly, before turning in a whirl and disappearing around the corner. Merlin didn't move, frozen in thought, his mind racing.

_What now? _

Merlin didn't have all the facts – he didn't know if what Morgana thought of Elsa was actually true, or if she'd only misunderstood. He couldn't forget that he and Morgana had two totally different perspectives on things – what if Morgana had only seen Elsa use her magic? She would view it as evil, and if Merlin was around when Elsa had used her powers, allowing it…it would look like Elsa had tricked Merlin into believing that Elsa meant him no harm. It was believable, after all – everyone knew that Merlin was always slow to condemn, quick to put his faith in someone. If that was what Morgana had seen, then Merlin would have been right in his opinion of Elsa – but then, what would he do about Morgana's vision?

And what if Morgana had seen _more_ than that? Merlin felt his stomach drop as he thought of countless possibilities. What if she'd seen him use _his_ magic? She probably would have thought that he was under a spell of some sort…but if she realized that this couldn't be true, what then?

Merlin subconsciously took a step back, leaning against the stone wall, and clapped a hand to his forehead, running his fingers through his already-mussed hair. "Uhhhh…" He groaned, letting his chin fall onto his chest. "What a mess."

The welcome silence only lasted a second.

The sound was an audible _thump_, like a pounding heartbeat echoing through his brain. It pulsed, pounding, compelling Merlin to clap his hands to his ears, trying to force it out – but of course, the sound wasn't coming from his surroundings. It only echoed louder, reverberating in his mind. He closed his eyes, and it was like diving into a pool of whatever this was – a deep, dark pool that swallowed him whole.

The pounding only got louder, but then there were voices too –

"_What do you want?" The voice is scared, trembling, and they can tell – laughter echoes around, the brittle sound confusing – _

A rush of green, the blurred view of a face leering closer and closer…

"_Leave me alone! Please – I don't want to have to hurt you–" _

The laughter boomed louder, almost rivaling the pounding sound.

"_Ah, I don't think you'll have to worry about that too much…" _

"_No! Let me _go_! I swear – you'll be sorry –" _

A sudden clashing sound – shouts muddled together, and then there was a flash of distant pain – this time, the darkness closed on both sides.

Merlin gasped, his eyes snapping open. Everything around him was ridiculously quiet and still – after what had just happened, shouldn't there be running, shouting? He panted in the silence of the deserted hallway, his hands curled into fists. _What...who was that? _Did that question even need to be asked?

Merlin took one final gasp of breath before leaping to his feet, and then he was running. Behind him, the heavy tapestry lay on the stone floor, forgotten.

* * *

Everything was a mess. The pain, the confusion, the fear – it all blended together, separating at the wrong places, and just making things more confusing. She couldn't remember anything of significance – just the tiny, unimportant things. A tiny mouse, glinted with a strange light – an accompanying sense of horror, though she didn't know why. A strange but friendly face, flashing past her eyes too quickly for her to recognize it. The color green – too bright and vibrant for her liking. Then, a flash of pain...but, first…

Elsa gasped, her eyes still shut. Everything seemed to click together – the fog lifted, and –

_No. What – where am I? _Elsa's muscles stiffened as she tried to grasp her surroundings, remembering the last time she'd felt this sense of disorientation. And, thinking of that…

"_No!" _

She remembered -

The confusion she'd felt after waking up in that strange forest, alone and far from Arendelle – then, the fierce men who'd surrounded her. She'd tried to make them listen -

"_What do you want?" Her voice was too scared, though; her lips trembled, and her words didn't help at all. The men laughed roughly around her, the sound clear in the silent forest. _

She'd whirled, trying to see how many there were – but they only came closer, their weapons brandished before Elsa's face – too soon, they were standing in a tight knot around her.

"_Leave me alone! Please – I don't want to have to hurt you –" She tried for brave words, but the sight of their deadly smiles had turned all her courage to fear. Their laughter boomed louder, filling her ears, and the one in front of her – the leader – spoke. _

"_Ah, I don't think you'll have to worry about that too much..." _

_He reached out an empty hand, snatching Elsa's wrist in a vice-like grip. Elsa pulled back, gasping in a terrified breath, but she only bumped into the other men that had her surrounded. She twisted her hand, trying to pull free, but the sneering man before her just yanked her forward, his strength far overpowering hers. Of course, that was only because she hadn't used it yet…_

"_No! Let me go! I swear...you'll be sorry –" Elsa's shout had a bite of anger in it, but the men didn't seem to notice. They were laughing, talking amongst themselves...Elsa snarled at the man gripping her wrist, lifting her free hand that was balled tightly in a fist. _

They _will_ be sorry_...Elsa thought in anger, as suddenly a new commotion began behind her. She didn't take notice, and instead tried to use this lapse in their attention to wriggle her wrist loose. It didn't work, but the men around her were stirring – a few turned around and ran in the way they had come, back through the forest, but the others just raised their swords, eyes narrowed. _

_Elsa didn't have a chance to grasp the situation before she felt a pair of strong arms lock themselves around her torso, lifting her off her feet. She screamed, stretching her hand out before her, feeling her true strength rise inside her chest, hearing her own heartbeat thumping so loudly that the whole world should hear…_

_...but then she was falling, her world knocked off balance. Elsa didn't have time to think – the rush of the fall took her breath – then, the flash of pain and darkness. _

Elsa gasped again, the memories flooding her mind. _What happened – where am I now? _

Her eyes flew open as she finally broke loose of the darkness. "What – I –" She sat upright, shutting her eyes tightly again as the blood rushed down from her head. "Ah – ow…"

The pounding had returned, but it was much subdued; Elsa could feel a budding headache, as well as a sharp pain burning on her cheek. Focusing on this pain, she suddenly felt the soft material beneath her and the heavy weight of a blanket thrown over her – she was on a bed. As her hands tightened into fists, her mind just registered a series of new sounds – a sudden, hard scraping sound; the rough scratch of a softer material on stone; a startled breath.

"My lady?" The voice asked, advancing. Elsa jumped, trying to pull herself back, as her eyes snapped open once more. The light stung, but Elsa's surroundings were far too interesting for her to ignore. She was in what may have been the most chaotic room she'd ever seen; it was small in the first place, and the seemingly disorganized and senseless clutter just made it even tighter. Scattered across tabletops, bookcase shelves and any other surfaces were countless books, tiny corked bottles, bits of dried plants, and bowls of colored powder crushed to a fine dust; there were complicated-looking weights and scales, scrolls of tattered parchment, delicate little chests with their clasps locked tight, odd-looking trinkets…

Elsa wouldn't have been able to wrench her eyes away from the spectacles of this strange room if not for the old man that was making his way to Elsa, calling out to her as if to calm her…

"…My lady? Princess Elsa, is that right?" He said quietly, sitting unobtrusively on a wooden chair that was situated by Elsa's bedside. "Are you alright?"

Elsa looked over at him, eyes still wide with confusion and fear. He had white-gray hair that hung down to his chin in thin, dry-looking strands. His face was very wrinkled and aged, and he wore a concerned-looking grimace. He didn't seem to Elsa as if he meant any harm, but…

"Who are you?" She whispered, her voice surprisingly dry. "Wh – Where am I?"

The old man smiled in an affable way, trying to comfort Elsa. "My name is Gaius, and we're in Camelot. I'm the court physician. Do you remember what happened to you?"

But Elsa ignored his question, her eyes widening in horror. They were in Camelot? _Camelot_, of all places? She felt her heart beginning to race as her breath quickened. _Camelot – of all places – anywhere but Camelot – _

Elsa remembered the horrible stories of Camelot that her parents had told her, the tales from back when the Great Purge was still going on. The unending executions, with innocent people burning within these castle walls – the terror that those hunted had felt as they abandoned their homes, leaving everything behind – and all because of one cruel king who turned on his friends and condemned everyone. Her parents had always drilled these facts into her, because of her powers – they'd warned her to always remember to stay away from that dreaded city. Even if the Purge was over now – the king was still there, and magic was still forbidden. _Not Camelot. _

The old man – Gaius – examined her with an intent stare, asking again. Elsa only shook her head slowly, gasping.

"No...not Camelot..." She gulped, clapping a trembling hand to the side of her face, running her fingers through her hair. But – wait –

"My gloves!"

Elsa snatched her hand back down, holding them, shaking, on her lap. Her gloves were gone. _No – I _need_ them! _How could she ever hide her powers here, in _Camelot_, if she didn't even have her gloves? She wouldn't last a second. "Where are they – my gloves, where did you put them?"

Elsa didn't even care that she was shouting, her fear being taken out as anger on this kind old man. Gaius leaned back, frowning, as Elsa balled her hands into quivering fists.

"My – my lady?" Gaius's voice was bewildered, but Elsa couldn't wait to try and think of an explanation.

"Where are they – I _need_ them!"

Elsa was about to get up, scrambling from the bed and away from Gaius – he was too close, too trusting. Images of what could happen here whirled through her mind – if she lost control now, how many people would be hurt? How much damage could she inflict? And then...if she couldn't get away...she would surely be killed. _My gloves – conceal, don't feel – _

"Here."

Elsa nearly lost herself then, but instead clutched her hands to her chest as she whirled around, looking for the source of the voice that had spoken from just behind her, gasping. But as their eyes met, she forgot her fear. She slowed – her eyes narrowed, but in what emotion, she couldn't tell – who _was_ he?

Standing behind her was a young man with shaggy dark black hair and clear cerulean eyes. His attire might have been found rather comical, with the red-tan jacket and the neckerchief, but Elsa couldn't have laughed if she wanted to. In an extended hand, he held Elsa's gloves – they were scuffed up and smudged with dirt, but whole and familiar. He frowned, but his eyes were unreadable.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Hope you liked, please leave me a review! **


	10. Destined

**Hi! Sorry for being two days late...this is the last week of school for me and I was pretty busy. On the bright side, this is my longest chapter yet! Over 4,000 words =D. Apart from that, I'd like to thank everyone who's followed, Favorited, reviewed or simply read this story so far - it means a lot to me, guys. A special thank you to Teekalin, who gave this story a shout out on her awesome story The Rising of Merlin (it's a crossover between Harry Potter and Merlin, and it's really cool, so check it out!). Thanks again! **

**Anyway, enjoy ATOFAI's newest chapter, and as always - don't forget to review! :) **

**Chapter Ten: Destined**

For a painstaking second, Elsa couldn't draw her stare away from him. His eyes were unreadable, his fists clenched, back stiff – Elsa noted this in an instant, and as a result, a strange pang passed through her. _Why – he's a total stranger – who _is_ he?_

Yes, this unknown young man was a total stranger, but Elsa couldn't help but feel a strange _pull_ as she stared into his eyes – a feeling as if they should know each other. _Strangers_ – no, they should be close; had she never met him before? No, she knew that they hadn't – but that didn't stop her from feeling that strange longing -

He blinked, and Elsa ripped her gaze away, her breath going out in a silent rush.

Elsa wanted to shake herself to dispel the strange emotions seizing her – but no, wouldn't that be too obvious? The situation came back to her slowly, not really mattering – _oh, my gloves. _Elsa reached out with a slightly trembling hand to take her disheveled gloves from the young man's hand, her eyes involuntarily darting up to meet his just once.

"Th-thank you," she stuttered, clenching her already-crumpled gloves in her hand. Holding them there, she told herself to pull them on – _of course, put them on_ – but there was a strange reluctance. Elsa ignored it, yanking the well-worn fabric into place.

"Are you okay?" The newcomer said softly, his voice carefully controlled – Elsa looked up to meet his blue eyes, but they were still guarded and unrelenting.

"Yes – I'm sorry, I just..." Elsa stumbled over her words, not knowing what to say. How could she explain this away? "I don't know what..."

Thankfully, Elsa's silence was broken by the old physician, his voice compensating. "You don't have to apologize," Gaius informed her, his eyebrows drawing together. "Apparently you _were_ affected by that fall. Does your head hurt? You may have had a concussion."

Elsa turned to him, still at a loss. "Er – no, not really..."

Gaius frowned, tilting his head as he examined Elsa. "Hmm. Well, that doesn't prove anything. Do you feel as if you have all your memory? Tell me your name."

"Um – my name's Elsa..." Elsa hesitated, flitting back to just a few moments before – Gaius had been calling her by her name. _Princess_ _Elsa_. "Wait – you already said that. How did you know my name?"

"Several of the articles that you were wearing when you were found indicated that you are a princess of Arendelle." Gaius replied. "After knowing that, it was only a simple matter of investigating the royal records to determine your name…my lady."

Elsa stared, her eyes wide, as Gaius leaned closer to her to examine the scrape on her cheek. _Princess of Arendelle – my lady._ The words stuck in her mind like loud and prominent rebukes – _stupid, stupid, stupid._ _They know who I am – how do I explain this? _All her pointless self-chiding couldn't take away her mistake. – _will I ever be free? _

Gaius leaned back, giving a 'humph' of satisfaction. "That looks fine...well, other than that, how do you feel? Do you remember what happened to you?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Elsa saw the dark-haired young man straighten slightly, expectantly. She hesitated, her mind frantic – what could she say? How could she excuse the fact that _she_, the princess and heir to Arendelle's throne, had been in the middle of the woods, all alone? In a heartbeat, her mind conjured an impossible scene – she could take off her gloves, use her magic to fight her way out. _What?_ Elsa shook off the ridiculous thought, gulping. But before she could speak –

"I wouldn't be surprised if you don't remember anything," said the young man standing beside Elsa's bed, his tone consoling. "You slammed your head pretty hard when you fell."

Elsa looked up at him, finding herself surprised – she didn't even know him, but those words were not something she expected. But – she felt a wave of relief spread through her. _Thank you. _"No – you're right. I don't..." Elsa made her voice confused, trying to sound lost. "I can't remember what happened. The last thing I remember was when I was in Arendelle – but I can't remember anything unusual."

The young man didn't say anything, but Elsa felt it – disappointment? Resignation? It was as if he was radiating his hidden emotions – or, Elsa really _had_ hit her head as hard as they thought. Finally he sighed almost imperceptibly, shifting.

"Well, your memory should be back soon – right, Gaius?" He said, his tone much lighter than before. "Don't worry about it. Anyway, I'm Merlin – nice to meet you, Elsa."

Gaius turned to give him – Merlin – a pointed glare, which Merlin replied to with a look of confusion. After a second, Merlin suppressed a smile, turning back to Elsa. "I mean – _princess_." He gave a tiny bow, twisting his lips to keep from smiling.

Elsa shook her head, still in confusion about Merlin's abrupt change in personality. "You don't..." She felt strange being bowed to by this man, a stranger-not-stranger from another kingdom – especially when Elsa had practically given up her position as princess anyway.

Gaius gave both her and Merlin a badly stifled incredulous look, and Merlin laughed.

Gaius cleared his throat, shaking his head skeptically. "Well – anyway, you do seem to be in good health other than your memory loss and that scrape...if you'd prefer it, I can arrange for you to be moved into one of the guest chambers. I'm sure you'd enjoy the privacy compared to this."

Elsa blinked, unable to help feeling surprised at Gaius's expectancy that she would be staying – of course, that was foolish. He was the court physician – that meant that the court, even the royal family, knew of Elsa's presence here. They wouldn't just tend to her wounds and send her off with good wishes. But...Elsa stuffed down her panic once again as she thought of her powers, held in check only be a pair of fragile gloves. _What am I going to do?_

"Uh – yes, that would be nice..." Elsa replied quickly, breaking the silence. _Stop acting like a refugee – act like a princess._ "I must thank the king for his hospitality..."

"Yes, he's been anxious to greet you and be sure of your good health," Gaius said, offhand, as he rose to his feet and shuffled over to one of the cluttered tables. "He has requested your presence, as soon as you are feeling up to it."

_What? _Elsa gaped, mentally cursing herself – she'd only said that out of courtesy, not realizing that it would have to become a reality. She was expected to appear before the king – the tyrant himself? How could she? _If I have to meet Uther Pendragon – no, I can't, how will I possibly hide it from him?_ Elsa's frenzied mind backed itself into a corner of despair; she couldn't think of anything past the drowning feeling of being trapped. _Why is it always this way...always trapped?_

Beside her, Merlin visibly flinched. Elsa whipped her head around, frowning in confusion – but he met her eyes calmly, a bright smile covering the concerned look in his eyes.

"You shouldn't strain yourself, though – I'm sure the king can wait another day until he sees you. You should rest, for today."

Again – this was the second time that Merlin had saved Elsa her fumbling words and eased her hidden panic. Elsa could have hugged him – quite a flamboyant move, for her. _It's almost as if he knows…_Elsa shook the thought out of her head, letting relief take its place.

From across the room, Gaius gave a cough of slight irritation. "Thank you, Physician Merlin," he said sarcastically, but Elsa could tell that his chastising was only out of fondness.

Merlin spread his hands, shrugging. "What?" He asked, grinning. "You'd say the same thing. I'm only saving you time."

Gaius shook his head slowly, looking back to whatever he was busy with at the worktable. "Well, perhaps you could save me time by doing something useful." He grumbled, before meeting Elsa's eye. "My lady – if you would like, Merlin can escort you to the guest chambers that have been prepared. There, you can eat and rest if you'd like; we'll have a maid sent up to assist you with whatever you might need."

Elsa nodded slowly – thinking it through first, this time – but it didn't seem like this could be a bad decision. If she stayed in the guest chambers, at least she'd be alone and away from all these questions and opportunities for her to make a mistake. "Yes – that would be fine, thank you."

Elsa swung her legs over the side of the beg and pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the slight wave of dizziness that washed over her. Brushing the wrinkles out of her dress – how long had she been wearing this for now? Two days? Three? – she took careful steps after Merlin towards the entrance to the room – a fragile looking wooden door.

"Thank you for caring for me..." Elsa said hesitantly, turning to address Gaius a final time. "You've been very kind."

"It was my pleasure, my lady." Gaius said, bowing slightly. "I will visit you again tomorrow to apply more ointment to your wound. Rest well, princess."

Elsa inclined her head to the old physician, giving him a slight smile before turning back to Merlin, who was waiting for her patiently. He gave her a bright grin and continued leading her out into the corridor, his steps confident and cheery. Elsa couldn't help but frown, looking after his lean figure. The kind old man, and this pleasant and strangely appealing young man – they were good, _innocent_ people, and every second that they spent with her, they were in danger. A horrible image flashed through her mind – her magic out of control, gloves forgotten, and Merlin and Gaius hurt just as Anna had been – Elsa gulped, forcing the thought out of her head. _That won't happen again_, Elsa vowed to herself. _I won't let it._

Merlin slowed, matching Elsa's pace as he walked just a step ahead of her. "I think you'll be comfortable in the guest chambers. The king likes to keep everything up to the highest standards, so you can expect sheets of silk and a wardrobe full of the finest gowns." Merlin joked with a smile, glancing back at Elsa. "It's the only way to rest, of course."

Elsa laughed appreciatively, smiling. "Of course," she replied, unable to resist. "I shall expect nothing less." Her words were light, and she couldn't help but feel at ease like this – just joking with Merlin, someone she'd met just a minute ago. _No – _don't_ get comfortable, that's the mistake you always make –_

"But, anyway – I think you'll like it here," Merlin said, his tone more thoughtful. "Other than a few certain people –" Here he paused, meeting her eyes conspiratorially. "– who I'm sure that you'll have the _pleasure_ of meeting, everyone's quite pleasant. Though – you'll definitely get Camelot's royal treatment, since…"

Elsa grimaced a little, shrugging. "I'd almost prefer not to…" she murmured – but wait, what was she saying? _Distance!_ It was far too easy to feel comfortable around him. "…though of course I'd appreciate it." Elsa added hastily, ducking her head.

Merlin noticed her quick words, and fell silent for a moment, apparently deep in thought. "You know…" he said finally, hesitating. "Everyone's been pretty concerned ever since you were brought to Camelot. We all want to help…and I really hope everything turns out all right."

Elsa nodded slowly. "Thank you…"

For a minute they walked in silence. Elsa mulled over Merlin's words, eyebrows pinched together. _We all want to help_. She shook her head fractionally, closing her eyes. _Until you know the truth, that is…_

"So you don't remember anything at all?" Merlin's question abruptly broke the silence. Elsa jerked her gaze back to him, thrown back into hesitation.

"Uh – no, nothing," She replied – perhaps a little too quickly. "It's as if I just woke up here after my usual day in Arendelle."

Merlin raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. "_That_ must be pretty disorienting…"

Elsa blinked. _Oh, right – act disoriented_. "Yes, it is…quite strange, actually."

Merlin nodded slowly, opening his mouth – chewing on his words? After a brief pause, he spoke up. "When you first woke up…well, it looked like you were having a nightmare. That might have something to do with what happened to you, you know. If you can remember it, it might trigger your memories to come back." He said brightly, turning to glance at her with wide, helpful eyes.

_What? _Elsa stopped involuntarily, one foot an inch above the ground. _A nightmare?_ She remembered the vibrant flashback that she'd had just before waking up – the men surrounding her, a new commotion arising, and her hand raising as she prepared to use her magic. Elsa drew a quick breath, stepping forward firmly.

Merlin, a few steps ahead of her, had turned to look back at her, frowning. She nodded, walking on. "You're right...but I don't remember what it was about. All I remember is a sense of fear – there are a few flashed of color and strange voices, but I can't make them out." _I'm getting a lot better at this lying thing, aren't I?_

Merlin made a tiny sound of surprise, quickening his pace to keep up with her. "Oh. It was just – well, you were muttering things in your sleep. That's why I thought it was a nightmare, though I thought you might have remembered."

Elsa didn't pause this time, though the shock and sense of panic flared up in her chest once again. _What did I say?_ "I – I don't remember anything like that." Her voice faltered, unsure.

"You were saying things like, 'let me go' and 'you'll be sorry,'" Merlin provided, an insistent note in his voice.

Elsa blinked with a sharp intake of breath. _Those words – exactly what I said, what I thought._ "...strange," Elsa said finally, averting her eyes.

"Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

_Why is it so important to you?_ Elsa thought angrily, gritting her teeth. If he kept this up, she'd surely make a mistake. "No, I don't," Elsa stated, her voice hard and final. "I'd really prefer not to discuss it."

He hadn't been expecting that, Elsa could tell. Merlin stiffened, his expression straightening into a blank mask. "Of course," he said quietly, looking away. "Pardon me."

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Elsa felt her heart pounding, still acutely aware of her situation, but as she walked beside Merlin's stony form, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty for her reprimand. It would have been nice to have had at least one friend in this dangerous place...Elsa squashed the thought, clenching her jaw. _I can't have friends...not as long as I'm a danger to them. _

The door to her new living quarters was a heavy, dark wood that Merlin pushed open for her, allowing her to enter with an alert expression. "I hope you're comfortable," he said formally – but his voice held a note of concern and apology. Elsa couldn't help but feel relieved. "A maid will be here to assist you soon."

"Thank you, Merlin," Elsa said with a tiny smile, her hands clasped. "I appreciate all your help."

Merlin nodded, returning her smile slightly, and pulled the heavy door closed as he left. It made a dull thud as it shut, and Elsa sighed, gazing at the cold and unwelcoming sight. _Alone at last_, she thought sadly, turning to face the spacious and lonely chambers – and try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from wishing that Merlin was still here.

* * *

Merlin shoved the heavy door closed, touching his forehead to the rough wooden surface for a brief moment. _Well, that was...interesting._ He sighed heavily, knowing that Elsa wouldn't be able to hear through the thick castle walls and oaken door, before pushing off from the door and striding down the familiar hallway, not really paying attention to where he was headed.

After experiencing that memory or whatever it was that Elsa had projected at him accidentally – for it was definitely Elsa that had done it, Merlin knew, because she'd recognized the phrases that he'd heard in that memory – Merlin had raced for Gaius's chambers unhesitatingly. He'd arrived just as Elsa was shouting at Gaius for her gloves, and Merlin had quietly retrieved them from the table where they'd been left. Surprisingly, he'd felt a certain magical aura around the battered pair of gloves – he supposed that it must have been a mild magical containment charm. Of course, this made sense – why else would Elsa have been so desperate to get them back? She needed them to contain her magic.

Mulling over this, Merlin frowned. If Elsa needed those gloves to much, then she must have been pretty uncertain about her abilities to hide her magic. If she was worried about it getting out of control..._She's in danger here_, Merlin thought uneasily. If anyone other than him and Gaius saw her magic, then a whole set of problems would be unleashed. Because Elsa was a princess, Merlin wasn't actually sure that Uther would execute her. Then again...Merlin had often doubted that Uther wouldn't execute _Morgana_ if her powers as a Seer were discovered. Elsa, a stranger, would surely be killed.

The thought of Elsa being executed sent a shudder through Merlin's body. He wouldn't let that happen – he'd have to help Elsa get out of Camelot, then. But to do that, she'd have to trust him. _And that's never going to happen unless she knows that I know about her powers, and that I accept that..._Merlin shook his head, frowning. _Well, you did a great job burning what little of a bridge you had with her, _Merlin thought, mentally chastising himself. How stupid of him – Elsa was obviously still confused and uncomfortable here. His pushing to try and get Elsa to admit that she _did_ remember what had happened to her was obviously too much.

Well, hopefully the damage wasn't that bad – after his careless words, Merlin had felt that Elsa was irritated, but also a little guilty for her harsh words at Merlin. It was strangely easy to tell what Elsa was feeling – maybe just because they both had magic? Merlin felt that that wasn't quite the reason for the strange connection that they had, but right now he just couldn't pinpoint it. _I wonder if she feels it too..._

Merlin was walking swiftly down corridor after corridor, his head slightly bowed as he remained deep in thought, so he didn't even notice where he was going until he found himself coming up to the Physician's Chambers. Merlin faltered in his sure steps for a second, grimacing – with all that had been going on, Merlin had yet to tell Gaius that Elsa had magic. He felt pretty guilty, to be honest – it was just that Merlin usually did things on his own, and only told Gaius if it was completely necessary. Merlin was already in the habit of keeping everything a secret, so it was almost natural to keep Gaius in the dark and act like everything was normal. _There really isn't anyone who knows all of my secrets..._Merlin thought sadly, feeling a pang of loneliness before shaking it off. Besides the fact that it was natural for Merlin to keep his troubles to himself, he also didn't want Gaius to worry – and sometimes, he really didn't want Gaius to try and impose his opinion on Merlin's decisions. Merlin loved Gaius like a father, of course – but Gaius was always very cautious and wary, and sometimes Merlin's idea of what was _right_ and Gaius's idea of what was _safe_ caused Merlin's judgment to be pretty clouded. It was just easier to work alone and then have to accept all of the consequences for himself.

But with this situation…Merlin was pretty sure that he'd have to tell Gaius, despite what he preferred. Morgana's visions were about Elsa and the events that her arrival would bring...Elsa's magic might be discovered by someone, and if it was then Merlin would need Gaius's help...and Merlin would probably need Gaius's advice anyway, because amongst all these problems he was sure that he'd find himself completely lost at some point.

Sighing in resignation, Merlin stepped forward and opened the door firmly, entering the room looking only a _tiny_ bit like a puppy preparing for a scolding. Gaius looked up at the sound of his footsteps, and immediately got up with an anxious look on his face – one that Merlin knew very well. _What now?_

"Gaius?" Merlin asked hesitantly, frowning.

"I'm glad you came back here first, Merlin," said Gaius hurriedly, shuffling around his cluttered worktables to get to Merlin. "I'm afraid we have a problem."

"Really?" Merlin replied in a flat voice, his expression wary.

"This Princess Elsa – there's more to _her_ than what meets the eye." Gaius said, a hair cryptically, and Merlin internally sighed. He could feel another argument coming on.

"Yes, I know," said Merlin, maintaining a calm voice. There really wasn't any way to avoid Gaius's inevitable insistence that Elsa was an enemy, but he might as well try. "She has magic. That's what she's hiding, and frankly I don't _blame_ her – especially as long as we're in Camelot."

Gaius responded with a shocked expression, his eyes wide. "She – she has _magic_?" He sputtered in a hushed voice. "That – but then, this is even worse than I thought!"

"Oh – well, I though you already knew that." Merlin replied, a little unsure now. What did Gaius know that he didn't?

"No – oh, Merlin, you have to be very careful with this. I don't know how we'll convince the king, because she's still a princess – I suppose that we could say we witnessed it –"

"Gaius!" Merlin stopped him, irritated. "You're not thinking of turning her in?"

Gaius turned to him with incredulous eyes. "In this situation, Merlin, we really have no choice. She will bring nothing but trouble to Camelot."

"Well," Merlin said, taking a deep breath. "Why don't you tell me what you know about her first, before we decide to _execute_ her?"

Gaius eyed him for a second, hearing his irritated tone, and let out a sharp breath through his nose before obliging. "When we first found out Elsa's real name, it seemed very familiar to me – I was sure that I'd heard it somewhere before, and not just in the context of royal families and such. I couldn't remember what it had been, but I spoke with a few old friends that are still living in Camelot. From them, I've gathered a bit about Elsa, and I have to say it's more than suspicious. When Elsa was just a child, all was normal – the king and queen were a bit protective of their children, but that was nothing unusual. But then, when Elsa was around ten years old, the royal family suddenly withdrew from their own kingdom. The gates to the palace were closed and almost no one was admitted in. The king and queen, of course, did appear to the public every once and a while, and they still convened with the court and participated in other matters of state. Their youngest daughter, Anna, was seen sometimes, though rarely. But Elsa...she hasn't been seen by the public since the gates to Arendelle were closed. The king and queen had always maintained that Elsa had acquired some rare illness, but as far as everyone could tell, no specialized physician ever came to call at Arendelle. Elsa didn't even appear at her parents own funeral, two years ago. Despite their king and queen's claim that Elsa had an illness, apparently the citizens of Arendelle all believe Elsa to be cursed, deformed, or dead. And if this is truly Elsa, she's certainly not deformed or dead...so she must be cursed."

Merlin had begun to shake his head slowly halfway through Gaius's speech, and now he met Gaius's eye with a skeptical look. "Come on, Gaius, it's obvious," Merlin said confidently. "She's not _cursed_. She has magic! Like I said. _That's_ the reason that the royal family withdrew – because their daughter suddenly started displaying magic. Someone must have noticed or something. They couldn't allow the public to find out, with so many who distrust it. So they made sure that no one would find out." _Phew._ Merlin relaxed. At least he didn't have to distrust Elsa now.

Gaius, however, was having his doubts, as usual. "I don't know, Merlin…" he said slowly, thinking over Merlin's explanation. "I still don't trust her. Even if she had magic, why would the king and queen keep her from everyone - even everyone's _sight_? It's not that hard to contain your magic, even if she was really incompetent...there must be something else."

Merlin heaved a heavy sigh. "Gaius, I _do_ trust her. There's something...I don't know, but I can tell she's not evil. She doesn't mean us any harm...she's just scared and eager to get out of Camelot."

"Your interpretations of how evil people are don't always prove to be the best, Merlin."

Merlin threw his hands up in the air, frustrated. "I'm _not_ going to just turn her in and let her be killed. Let me just try and help her get out of Camelot. There's no harm in that."

Gaius frowned, about to say something, but Merlin simply turned away, making for the door. "I've got stuff to do," he said flatly, scowling._ Fine...I'll just do it on my own. What else is new? _

* * *

**So! Merlin and Elsa have officially met, and both have felt the strange connection that they seem to have...wonder what that's about? ;) Anyway, things are picking up here. I should hopefully update within next week, though it may be later again (like Wednesday/Thursday) because my life is nonsensically busy. But don't worry, I wouldn't dream of ditching this story (again). Once again, sorry about that. **

**Please leave me a review and tell me what you think, and sorry for the delay! **

**~whatswiththemustache**


	11. The Real World

**Hello! Enjoy ATOFAI's latest chapter – thanks for reading, and don't forget to review! More of an AN at the bottom. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin – the characters, setting, or anything else besides the plot are not mine.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: The Real World**

_**...a few days earlier, in Arendelle…**_

After Anna's encounter with the council members, no one in Arendelle had come across the princess for the rest of the day. Everyone was busy, of course – arrangements for searching for Elsa and spreading the word that a reward would be offered for her safe return were underway, and no one bothered to seek Anna out. They all assumed that she was grieving this fresh loss; Anna knew the castle well, and it would really be pointless to try and find her because they'd never succeed. So, they went on with business; it was a tense day for them all, but there was no lack of things to be done. Night fell in quiet anticipation, and as the lights began to flicker out later that evening, it seemed that the entire kingdom of Arendelle was on its toes – uncomfortable, uneasy, and unable to do anything.

A few hours into that tentative darkness, only one could prove that assumption wrong. In the royal stables, the soft sounds of horses shifting on their feet, drawing deep breaths and letting loose the occasional comforting snort, was interrupted by someone's hurried footsteps and the scraping of the stable door being pushed open. Anna slipped inside, shoving the door back into place, her heavy cloak sliding further down over her face.

Anna's heart was pounding, but surprisingly, it was in a good way; she was nervous about what she was about to do, but she knew that it was in the best intentions. What else could she do? If the council members wouldn't listen to her, and they couldn't understand that they weren't dealing with a kidnapping, then they'd never get Elsa back. And even though Anna was sure that Elsa had run away on her own free will, that didn't mean that Elsa was safe out there. There were a whole lot of other problems that she could encounter, even with her powers.

Anna ventured farther into the dark stables, taking care to muffle her footsteps as much as she could, and made her way over to a certain stall that she still knew well. "Hey, Azure," she greeted the mare that stood, dozing, in the stall. At the sound of Anna's voice, the horse's ears twitched and she swung her hefty body around to poke her nose over the stall door.

"I missed you too," Anna said lovingly, stroking Azure's soft nose. Azure had been Anna's horse ever since Anna was a young girl; before Arendelle's gates were closed, Anna and Azure had been great friends. Azure was three years younger than Anna, and Anna had been there at Azure's birth – though of course, she'd been too young to really understand anything. However, when Azure was still a foal, Anna played with her and even "helped" train her. Since then, Azure had grown into a lovely blue-roan mare of purebred, Andalusian blood; Anna hadn't seen her in a while, but Azure still recognized her well.

"Guess what, beautiful?" Anna scratched Azure under her chin, where she knew that the mare enjoyed it. "You and I are going to go on an adventure!" Anna gave her a final pat before stepping back, looking around for her gear. The bridle was hanging on a peg by the stall door; it took a little longer to find the saddle, which was on its stand in the storage room underneath a neat label spelling out Azure's name. Anna lugged the equipment back into Azure's stall, where she spent about half an hour struggling to put it on the horse correctly.

Finally, Anna sighed and stood back, admiring her work. Azure looked a bit ruffled and irritated at all of Anna's fumbling, but the saddle and bridle seemed to be in the right places and adjusted correctly. Anna pulled on the girth strap on the saddle one final time, hoping it was tight enough, before grabbing the reins and easing open the door to Azure's stall.

"Shh," Anna warned Azure quietly, stepping out into the hey-strewn corridor. Azure seemed to sense the need for silence despite Anna's words, and she daintily laid her shod hooves down on the stone ground.

Anna slowly opened the door to the stables once again, poking her head out to look around. No one was around, of course; they were far from the entrance to the palace and that's where most of the guards were. There would be guards at the city gates and along the bridge that crossed the fjord, as well, but she'd just have to deal with them.

Outside, in the cool, sharp night air, Anna took a deep breath and placed her boot in the stirrup, swinging herself up into the saddle. Azure shifted beneath her, feeling Anna's excitement. This was a somber affair, she knew, but she couldn't help but feel a nervous anticipation. _This is the first time that I'll be leaving Arendelle...ever, I think. _She couldn't ever remember going beyond the city gates. But, Anna was prepared – she'd brought necessary supplies, including the small and jingling pouch of coins that was fastened to her belt.

"I'll be fine," Anna said confidently into the night air, with only Azure to hear her. _I need to do this...I need to bring her home._ If Anna hadn't broken into Elsa's chambers and gotten her so worked up that her magic got out of control, then Elsa never would have left – and now, Elsa could be in danger because of that. So, it was really Anna's responsibility.

Anna tapped her heels lightly into Azure's sides, and the mare responded by moving swiftly into a light trot. The clip-clopping of her hooves resounded through the air, but no one seemed to notice; Anna rode undetected through the wide courtyard and made her way towards the gates to the castle.

Just as she was riding under the arched gateway, the pounding of running footfalls echoed to reach Anna's ears. She reined in Azure, leaning back, as three men in chainmail, armed with spears and the Arendelle crest, leaped in front of her to bar her way.

"Halt!" One of them shouted with a stern voice. "Who goes there? Show yourself!"

Anna rolled her eyes, shaking back the hood of her cloak. "Just me," she said lightly, unable to help the sarcasm bleeding into her voice.

All three guards were taken aback, straightening in shock. "P-princess Anna?" The man spoke again, apparently in charge. "What are you doing out here, so late at night? Where are you going?"

Anna sighed. "I'm going to find my sister, and I have every right to. You can't stop me. But," she said firmly, her chin lifted in the air. "You can go ahead and tell Hermerran that I disagree with his methods of trying to find Elsa. Now please, move aside so I can be on my way."

The two guards flanking the man in charge took slow steps backwards, clearing the way for Anna and Azure. The middle one, however, stood his ground, unsure. "My lady, I – I cannot in good conscience let you ride off on your own. It's dangerous – for a young woman like you, _alone_?" He voice quivered at first, but he ended his speech in a firm tone. "I must implore you to reconsider. Allow us to accompany you; it will only take a minute for me to get a horse prepared –"

"I'll be fine," Anna cut him off, irritated. _I'm not a child anymore, and I'm sick of being treated like one. _"It's my responsibility to bring my sister home, and I won't waste any more time that I could be spending doing that. Now, move aside!"

The guardsman had no choice but to leap aside, wheeling and shouting after her, as Anna firmly kicked Azure into motion, racing down the stone bridge. Anna tightened her legs around the well-muscled horse who was apparently reveling in the chance to run full out like this. Feeling the wind rushing past her ears, her body moving with the rhythm of Azure's pace, Anna couldn't help but laugh – that, and fervently hope that she didn't fall off as her weight seemed to shift a little from above Azure's center.

_Oh, well – I'll get the hang of it_, Anna thought with a smile as they flew through the fishing town and out onto the main road. Tall pines flanked the path, with the black and glimmering surface of the fjord just visible through the branches; the firm thumping of Azure's hooves making contact with the hard, packed dirt beat steadily into a continuous rhythm. The sound was comforting in Anna's ears; it was dependable, unwavering, and promising of moving forward.

Anna and her mount raced onwards, galloping in an easy, rolling pace; for a while this continued, until Anna felt Azure beginning to tire, so she slowed the mare to a light trot. At this less exhilarating gait, Anna relaxed and allowed her mind to wander, mulling over the events of the day and her plans for the future. She reconsidered the guardsman's words back at the gates; of course it was too late now, but she thought that there might have been some worth to his offer of accompanying her. He might have been able to help with the plan that she had; certainly, it would be difficult, if not impossible, for Anna to find Elsa alone.

_But, they never would have let me leave if I had agreed to wait_, Anna thought decisively, not regretting heractions. It was true; of course they wouldn't let their princess – the only one, now – ride off in the middle of the night, even with an escort. It was simply too dangerous, and all of Anna's commanding words and threats wouldn't have changed anything. But Anna couldn't agree with their warnings and worries; perhaps it was dangerous, but she couldn't bear to spend her whole life shut up in Arendelle just because it was too dangerous for her to venture outside the castle walls. Besides, she did need to find Elsa – no one else would be able to, especially since they thought that Elsa had been kidnapped.

_They probably haven't even sent out search parties beyond the city._ Thinking that Elsa had been kidnapped and taken far from Arendelle to somewhere where she would be kept until the ransom was received, the court would decide to send soldiers to search the town and ask if anyone had seen anything suspicious. However, they would find it pointless to go any further, and it made sense not to. If someone had planned out this kidnapping with so much detail as to break into a castle and steal a princess, then of course they'd hide her well and be careful not to be discovered. The only thing that Arendelle could do would be to wait for the kidnappers to contact the council.

But this _wasn't_ a kidnapping, Anna knew, and there was nothing to wait for. Every minute that they dawdled, Elsa would be getting farther away from Arendelle, and it would be only more likely for her to run into trouble. Anna was right in insisting that the search begin as soon as possible, and of course it would be better if Anna was the one to find Elsa. It would be much more likely for Elsa to go back to Arendelle with Anna than with the soldiers; so far, all of them were oblivious to Elsa's powers, and would be nothing more than cold and uncaring strangers. Despite that, however, it would be nice for Anna to have help; she had a lot of ground to cover.

Anna planned to search in circles around Arendelle, more or less. She'd follow this main road to the next town and search there, finding out if anyone had seen Elsa or noticed anything strange – or, in particular, icy. If not, then she'd travel around Arendelle to the next town that was also close to the city, and go through the same routine. Eventually, she was sure to find some trace of Elsa; even if her sister wanted to stay away from everyone, she still had to eat and find shelter somewhere. Anna was sure that Elsa would stop at _some_ town soon. Once she had picked up the trail, then it should be easier to find Elsa; she would either still be in that same town, or moving towards another one that was farther from Arendelle. Whichever path Elsa chose, Anna was sure that she could follow her and find her. And then…

Anna sighed, ducking her head. _If Elsa really wants to leave Arendelle, then how can I possibly convince her otherwise?_ Anna still wasn't sure on this one point – because no matter how much Anna wanted Elsa to return to Arendelle so that they could resolve their problems and maybe even become real sisters again, if Elsa was truly so miserable in Arendelle that she would run away, then how could Anna drag her back? It wouldn't be right, and if Else didn't want to stay, no one could make her. All she would have to do would be to relinquish her right to the throne. Then, she'd truly be free of Arendelle.

_If she doesn't want to go back, then I can't make her,_ Anna thought sadly. If her sister was bent of leaving Arendelle for good, then there was no stopping her. Still, Anna was determined to find Elsa. Even if her sister decided to leave Arendelle, Anna still needed to talk with her; she had to understand how Elsa had these powers and why she had never been told. _No matter what…we'll see each other again – and maybe, we can be sisters again. _Satisfied in her determination, Anna urged Azure to trot a little faster, with firm and ground-eating strides.

As the night wore on, the waxing moon drifting low in the star-filled sky, it seemed to Anna that Azure and her had made no progress. Even after at least an hour of riding, the same tall, dark green pines rose up alongside the path. A cold wind whispered through the trees, making an urgent rushing sound and waving the bristly boughs through the air. Anna was frowning, thinking to herself in concern –_ it can't be so far just to reach the next town from Arendelle_ – when Azure stiffened beneath Anna, her gait becoming irregular and jerky.

Anna tightened her fingers around the reins, looking around. The path was empty, both ahead and behind, and as far as Anna could tell, the surrounding forest was no different from that which they'd been traveling through ever since leaving Arendelle. Anna placed a comforting hand on Azure's tense neck, rubbing her soft coat. "What's wrong?"

The mare shook her head tightly as if in response, chewing at her bit nervously. Anna tugged on the reins slightly, slowing the agitated horse to a stop. Anna's own heart was pounding, unable to help feeling even more nervous when her second scan of the surrounding area proved fruitless. She paused, unmoving, as she tried to listen for anything strange, but all she could hear was the hammering of her heart. For the longest moment, everything was still, and though Anna strained to hear anything approaching, it was as if the forest were listening to _them_. It was faint with distant creaks and groans of wood, but here, everything was silent as the grave. After what seemed like an eternity, Anna had had enough; she took a sharp breath, about to urge Azure onwards, when a voice sounded directly behind her, chillingly calm and close.

"Hello."

Anna whipped around; she involuntarily tightening her legs around Azure, making the horse rear up and try to bolt. Anna gripped the reins tightly, trying to hold back both the horse and her pounding heart, even as she turned Azure in a tight circle so that she could face the person behind her.

Standing idly on the path was a tall, slender woman with thick, coffee-colored hair and deep brown eyes. She wore a tan dress with a black cloak draped over her shoulders, and stood confidently, seemingly at ease; her arms were relaxed at her sides, and her chin lifted assuredly into the air. The most eye-catching about her, though, was her calm, tranquil appearance; not a line marred her attractive face, and her warm brown eyes were composed and comforting.

Once Anna had calmed Azure down, rubbing a slightly trembling hand over the mare's well-muscled forequarters, she gave the stranger a tiny smile, meeting her eyes. "Sorry about that – she was already nervous, and then when I heard you, I accidently kicked her…"

The strange woman smiled easily. "Then it is I who should apologize for startling you. I saw you stop and wondered what was wrong, so I thought I would come and introduce myself."

Anna frowned, confused. "Oh – are you camped here? I didn't see a fire anywhere…"

"It's farther into the woods," the other woman assured her.

Anna nodded. "I see. Well, I don't know why my horse got nervous all of the sudden – she seemed to sense something strange. I don't think smelling _you_ would have caused that…but, I'm being rude. I'm Anna. It's nice to meet you." Anna inclined her head a little, and then remembered that she was a princess – it was unlikely that this woman was any higher in status than her. _Oh well._

The stranger smiled again, her warm expression seeming to melt away Anna's nervousness. "I am glad to meet you as well, Anna. My name is Dezyra. Now, may I ask – why is a young woman like yourself riding alone through this dark forest in the middle of the night? It's not safe, you know."

Anna sighed before smiling grimly. "I can take care of myself," Anna declared, though her voice was soft. Dezyra's eyes seemed to flicker a little at her brave words. "But…the reason I'm out here is because, I'm looking for someone. She's very dear to me and I hope I can find her soon." Anna didn't see any harm in telling Dezyra this, and as she watched Dezyra's face change, she realized – maybe she had seen or heard word of Elsa!

Dezyra wore an intrigued look, quirking one slender eyebrow. "Looking for someone? Who is this? Perhaps I can help."

Anna laughed, relaxing and leaning down a little from her high position on Azure. "I was just going to say that, actually. It would be wonderful if you could help me. I'm looking for my sister, Elsa – she has very light blonde hair, blue eyes, and is slim, just a little shorter than you; she's only a few years older than me. She would have been wearing, well, clothes of expensive material, like me."

Dezyra's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and Anna's heart lifted – _she recognizes the description! She's seen her! _Dezyra frowned little, glancing over Anna with new understanding in her eyes. "Your sister?" Dezyra said softly, lowering her gaze.

"Yes," Anna said eagerly, unconsciously leaning closer. "She disappeared yesterday – or actually, the night before."

Dezyra nodded slowly, and Anna itched to ask her outright. The other woman's right hand twitched fractionally, and she slowly raised her head to meet Anna's probing gaze. "I have seen your sister."

Anna's face split into a wide grin, and she laughed in relief. "That's wonderful! Oh, you don't know how much this means to me. Please, when and where –" But before Anna could finish, Dezyra cut her off.

"No," Dezyra said quietly, shaking her head slowly. "I'm afraid that you don't understand. But first, though I believe I already know the answer – you don't have powers like your sister, do you?"

Anna was taken aback for a moment, eyes wide. _Else told her?_ Then she recovered; the more that Dezyra knew about Elsa, the more likely that she knew exactly where she was. This was a good thing. "No, I don't – actually, I only found out about Elsa's recently." Anna couldn't keep the hint of jealousy out of her voice, and apparently Dezyra noticed, because her lips turned upwards in a tiny smile.

Dezyra's smile widened, until she laughed quietly; her calm demeanor wavered as her laughter got louder. Anna frowned a little, taken aback – Dezyra hadn't seemed like the sort of person to burst out laughing like this. Finally, Anna had to break the prolonged show of humor. "Dezyra – what –"

Dezyra cut her off for a second time, eyes flashing with amusement. "Oh, this has gotten interesting." She lifted her hand to trace her fingers lightly across the side of her face, resting her hand along her jawbone and tapping her finger casually to her temple. Anna opened her mouth to argue – _this isn't a joke_ – but Azure suddenly stiffened beneath her, and she was caught off guard.

Dezyra took a silent step forward, reaching out with a hand. Her eyes were wide and calming again for a fleeting second, but then they flashed an alarming shade of gold. Anna pulled back, beginning to cry out – but Dezyra's quiet words, murmured precisely, were quicker. "_Swefe nu_," she said, her voice lilting with suppressed laughter. Anna sensed her limbs going slack as she felt gravity pulling, and her cry was silenced; her eyelids were dragged irresistibly shut as the night sky above being swallowed up by more darkness.

* * *

**So, yes, unfortunately we had to take a break from the goings-on with Merlin and Elsa to take a peek at what's happening at Arendelle. And, of course – there's always lots to see. ;) **

**Also thought I'd justify Anna's actions – she may have seemed pretty rash and not-so-smart for riding of on her own, in the middle of the night. But, hold up – this is the person who got engaged with someone on the same day as meeting them, so…I think that it's probably something she would do. As explained, she just really wants to do things on her own and get out of Arendelle, so she was pretty much leaving on her own to experience the 'real world' as much as to find Elsa. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Please leave me a review and tell me what you think. Have a nice day, and expect the next update early next week (let's hope)! **

**~whatswiththemustache**


	12. The Voice and the Vault

**Hello again! Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, reading, following, favorite-ing…I'd just like to give a general "thanks". It makes me so happy to see that everyone's enjoying this, so thank you! I'd also like to say, if I haven't been answering your reviews like I usually do, I'm sorry, and it's only because I get access to internet really rarely now – publishing this chapter is the first time I've been online since last Wednesday, I think. **** But anyway…as promised, I bring you Chapter Twelve! I'm getting so excited for this story because things are picking up pace, and seriously, my chapters are just getting longer and longer…it's a good thing ;) **

**Hope you like!**

**Chapter Twelve: The Voice and the Vault**

"What do you mean, you thought it'd be _best_?"

Arthur's irritated voice rang about the stone corridor, echoing as if to punctuate his question.

Merlin ran a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes. "I _mean_, I thought it would be best! What's so difficult about understanding _that_?"

Arthur scowl deepened, but Merlin knew that he would relent – because, as was usual, Merlin was right. After Merlin had left Gaius's room, he'd promptly bumped into Arthur, who'd inquired about Elsa. As soon as the prince heard that Elsa had awakened and that Merlin had taken her to a guest chambers, Arthur had become instantly cross, demanding that Merlin should have alerted him beforehand. Merlin had defended his actions by saying that Elsa had wanted to rest, which has true, and Arthur had seemed to run out of arguments.

"I'll tell you what's difficult about understanding that, _Mer_lin," said Arthur, the anger already leaking out of his voice. "It's that, since you are my servant, you are supposed to consult me before making your own – and _poor, _might I add_ – _decisions."

Merlin simply rolled his eyes again, for which Arthur sent him a narrow-eyed glare.

"Why do you want to see her so badly, anyway?" asked Merlin, crossing his arms, slight irritation in his voice this time. Why, he couldn't say – so he stifled it, smoothing his features carefully.

Arthur shook his head, incredulous. "_Why_?" He repeated in exaggeration. "Well, I don't know, maybe to ask her _why_ she was out alone, in the middle of the forest, being attacked by a group of harrying scoundrels!" Arthur told Merlin, rolling his eyes. "Or something." He added sarcastically.

"Well, you know, you could've just asked _me_ if I knew anything about that," Merlin replied, this time letting his irritation color his voice. Of course, Arthur would just automatically assume that Merlin hadn't tried to find out anything himself. That, or he'd rebuke Merlin for prying _too_ much – Arthur was never satisfied.

Arthur gave Merlin a flat look. "_Do_ you know something about that?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Merlin rose his eyebrows. "Obviously, I tried to find out about what happened to her as well."

"Right, then what _did_ you find out?" Arthur asked impatiently.

"I found out this – she doesn't remember anything." Merlin said with finality, not hesitating. Normally, whenever he lied to Arthur, or even told half a lie, as this one was, he would feel a flicker of guilt, a flash of remorse. This time, though – he didn't falter at all. Of course, there was nothing else that Merlin could possibly tell Arthur, and after all, that was what Elsa had told Merlin and Gaius…officially, that is. And even if Merlin could have thought up an excuse that would allow Merlin to tell Arthur that Elsa did remember, he wouldn't have – he wouldn't betray her, not when she needed allies most.

Arthur frowned, gaping for a second. "What?" he asked incredulously. "She doesn't remember _anything_? How can that be?"

"Well, you remember how I said that Elsa might have had a concussion, back when we found her? Turns out I was right, she did, and it was severe enough that she lost her recent memories. It's probably temporary, though there's no telling how long it'll take for her memories to return. For now, she can't remember how she met those men, how she got here, or why she left Arendelle…nothing."

Arthur's eyes widened. "That's unfortunate." He gulped, then shook his head. "Well, I suppose it can't be helped. It's best to let her rest, then. But my father will still want to see her."

Merlin nodded slowly, a dubious look crossing his face. "I don't know how well that's going to go…" he murmured, thinking out loud.

"Why should it go wrong?" Arthur inquired, cocking an eyebrow.

Merlin straightened, mentally chastising himself. "Just – erm, well – Elsa doesn't seem very…comfortable…here in Camelot. I guess it's just because of whatever happened to her. But she's very disoriented and pretty much wants to be left alone." _So leave her alone_. Merlin finished confidently, hoping that his words would take effect.

"Well," Arthur replied, his words deliberately pronounced. "She'd better get over her _disorientation_ soon, because she can't ignore the king's summons forever. And speaking of that, neither can I; I'm supposed to report back to him on Elsa's condition." With that, the prince turned on heel and strode off down the corridor. Merlin stood where he was for a moment, sighing, before he started after Arthur.

They wound through Camelot's stone halls together, their echoing footsteps the only sound. Any conversation quickly died because Merlin was so preoccupied, thinking on Arthur's words. _She can't ignore the king's summons forever_. It was the truth, Merlin knew, but he also knew that, with Elsa's powers seeming to be strangely out of control, it would be dangerous for her to meet with Uther. Obviously Elsa knew of Uther and his reputation for slaughtering those with magic – he had _felt_ the horror that emanated from Elsa when she heard Uther's name – so she'd be even more scared and in danger of losing control if she was around him. _But how can I stop them from meeting? _Merlin asked himself, the problem tearing at his mind. _I could somehow help her leave Camelot, but how could I get her to trust me?_ A hundred possibilities presented themselves, but Merlin automatically shied away from the most promising.

Merlin was so lost in thought that it seemed that he and Arthur arrived at the council chambers in an instant. Arthur turned to give Merlin a strange look, frowning, before he pushed open the heavy wooden doors and entered the room. Merlin slipped in after him before the guards standing vigilantly besides the double doors could pull them closed again.

Uther sat in his chair at the head of the long counseling table, upon which rested several tall candles and a few scrolls bound in ribbon. The king sat heavily, leaning slightly to his left, with his head resting on his fisted hand. Arthur paced along the table before coming to a stop a few feet from his father, his hands clasped behind his back respectfully; Merlin trailed behind him quietly, keeping his distance and unobtrusively leaning against a stone pillar. Thinking so much about Elsa's aversion to meeting Uther had forced Merlin to face several sore subjects, and he was reluctant to come to close to the king, so oblivious of the suffering he caused.

Uther stirred slightly, lifting his head as Arthur addressed him. "Father," Arthur greeted him, inclining his head.

"Arthur," Uther replied, sighing a little. "What news do you bring me?"

Arthur took a breath before continuing. "Princess Elsa has awoken, and of the flesh, she is healthy; her wounds do not trouble her. However, it appears that, when she was injured, she received a concussion. Now, she cannot recall what happened to her or why she left Arendelle. Her memories are lost, though perhaps not for long." Here Arthur turned slightly, glancing back at Merlin for a second. "Apparently she might be able to regain them, with rest and time."

Uther's ever-present frown deepened sharply as Arthur's speech progressed, and when Arthur fell silent, Uther rose from his chair, clearly troubled. "She has no memory?" said Uther sharply, though he turned away from Arthur, not expecting an answer. "What else did Gaius say of this?"

"Just that it will be impossible for us to determine how long it will take Elsa to regain her memories."

Uther paced, his eyes dark. For a while he was silent, during which Arthur waited patiently, rolling back on his heels. Finally Uther looked up, hands on his hips and a scowl firmly in place. "And this memory loss _is_ of natural causes?" Uther asked slowly, the familiar suspicion in his tone. Merlin had to lower his head to hide his skeptical expression. _Of course…he brings this up every chance he gets. _

Arthur seemed to understand what Uther implied as well, though his tone remained impassive. "Well, when she fell, it was definitely hard enough to result in such damage. However, I don't know how often this does occur or if it's an especially rare thing." Arthur's words were careful, not implying anything, but Merlin saw how Uther drew his own impression from every syllable.

"I don't like this," the king said darkly, resuming is pacing. "Not one bit. This whole situation stinks of treachery, trickery, deceit…something is at work here that we do not understand. It simply doesn't make sense. _Why_ was the princess alone, without any guard or escort? They weren't killed by that group who attacked her because there were no _bodies_. We can be sure because not _one_ was found after we sent out that patrol to search the area. So how did this come to be? Surely Elsa wasn't traveling alone. And now, when we most need answers, the princess is mysteriously deprived of her memories! All of this keeps leading me back to the same conclusion…" The room fell silent as Uther drew out that last sentence. Merlin felt his heart thumping in his throat, seeming loud enough to alert the entire chamber to his distress. _How could he possibly know? Surely he doesn't suspect Elsa…_

Arthur was the first to break the silence. "Who do you think are responsible?"

Uther shook his head, waving a hand as if to swat away a fly. "Oh, there are countless possibilities. Those who have dishonest power never stop to gain more of it…I cannot say exactly what happened, but I believe that Elsa has been the victim of our greatest enemy – _sorcery_."

Arthur stiffened, but Merlin practically slumped with relief. For now, Uther was on Elsa's side. _Victim of sorcery_…Merlin frowned a little as realized that, in a way, Elsa was.

For a moment, there was silence. Arthur deliberated for a moment, his head bowed, before he spoke. "What would you have me do?" Arthur asked, his voice quiet.

Uther shook his head slowly. "For now, there is nothing to do. I can make no decision until Elsa's situation is more stable…no, leave me, I wish to be alone. Just be sure that nothing else befalls the princess."

"I will do my best." Arthur bowed his head once again before turning and striding from the room, sparing a quick glance at Merlin. As the doors boomed shut behind them, Merlin quickened his stride to catch up with Arthur. For a minute they walked side by side in silence, until Merlin glanced up at Arthur's face to find him frowning in worry.

"What do you think?" Merlin asked quietly, feeling an uneasy anticipation to his answer.

Arthur clenched his jaw. "That he's right," he said simply, frowning. Merlin didn't know what he could have possibly expected, but Arthur's words left him with an overwhelming sense of sadness, permeating him as if he were drowning in it. _Walking opposite paths_…the phrase rang in his mind as he continued along, following Arthur as always.

* * *

Elsa sighed with impatience, and decided that she'd finally waited enough.

Night had fallen hours ago, yet Elsa remained quietly in her chambers, sitting on the plush, velvety covers of the bed, her face impassive and her body still. As Merlin had promised, a maid had come soon after he'd left and helped her refresh herself. Elsa had had a bath, which was warm and cleansing, and had also had a chance to change her dress. Then she'd eaten a luxurious meal of rich meats and juicy fruit and vegetables, as well as buttery rolls and good, sweet wine. The maid had lit a small fire to keep her warm, and after helping Elsa into a nightdress, she'd left her to sleep in the silky sheets that had been provided for her.

The entire experience had been a nerve-wracking nightmare.

Throughout the whole day, Elsa's heart had beat at a pounding, almost painful pace; she jumped at the smallest sounds, and her hands quivered whenever someone addressed her. The delicious meal that she'd been forced to consume had barely gone down, and for a while, Elsa had been in serious danger of retching it up again in her unease. She knew that it was foolish, if not dangerous for her to be so scared, yet she could not stop her fear, and for that she hated herself. How could she be so weak – not strong enough to control her magic, her fears, or her actions? She'd been forced to endure the torment in this cursed castle all day long, hiding herself and her true wishes. Of the entire day, she could only see one bright light amid the sea of darkness – and that was the brief time that she'd spent talking with Merlin, the strange servant. She almost blushed at the fact, but his presence comforted her, but she couldn't imagine why.

But now, Elsa finally stood, stretching her arms in front of her and taking a deep breath. _No more waiting_, she told herself, both excited and terrified at the prospect of fleeing Camelot. She knew that, if pressed, she could escape unharmed without a doubt – but _if_ she became pressed, then she couldn't ensure that the people of Camelot would remain unscathed. _It comes down to how far I will go for my survival_, Elsa thought to herself, wondering. She felt guilt wash through her as she came to terms with what she knew was the truth – if they came after her, and if Elsa feared that she wouldn't escape, then she'd lose control of her magic for sure. _Please don't let it come to that_.

Elsa walked soundlessly over to the table where she'd dined, picking up her dark cloak that she had left draped over one of the chairs. She threw it over her shoulders, welcoming the concealing weight, and then reached back to flip the hood over her head. As she did, a tremor of urgency rippled through her, making her clench her fists uncontrollably. _Dezyra…I wonder if she's still waiting for me, wherever she is. How will I find her?_

She was silent as she stepped over to the door, pulling it open and wincing slightly at the creak of sore hinges. No one was there to hear it, however, and she slipped out of the chambers, pulling the door shut again with a soft thud. She lingered in indecision for a moment, trying to recall which way she should go – _Merlin and I came from that way, but the courtyard is over _there – before she got her bearings. Lifting one foot up to step forward, she made to move forward – but was assailed by a whisper, stopping her in her tracks.

_You…_an indecipherable voice – ancient and tinged with power that Elsa could not only feel, but _taste_ – whispered in her mind, sounding as clearly as if the speaker hovered by her ear.

Elsa stumbled, falling to her knees and catching herself with already-sore palms; she gasped wildly, her heart thumping. _What was that? _She looked about her frantically, though she knew that the whisper had not come from her surroundings.

_You…come, Elsa. You'll know the way. _Elsa gasped once again as the words flowed within her head, the voice distinctly not hers. The lack of direction that the voice had – not coming from before her or behind her, but simply _there_ – was throwing. She shook her head wildly, as if to rid herself of the uninvited presence, but of course it was useless. After a moment of calm silence, both within and outside of her mind, she rose unsteadily to her feet, trying to sort out her whirling thoughts. _I'll know the way? How did whoever that was know my name? How did they speak into my mind, in the first place?_

The questions only confused her more. But as she thought back to the voice, the presence in her mind, and the unprecedented _power_…it was as if they were pulling her towards them and their influence. Elsa frowned, knowing the right thing to do – _I should just leave, just leave Camelot and never return _– but she couldn't force herself to move forward, away from whatever that voice had been. She bit her lip, her thoughts racing – but the curiosity was the one that one over fear. Elsa clenched her fists, turning on heel and stepping out in the opposite direction, not even stopping to consider why she was going that way. She came to a junction between two corridors, automatically turning right along it, when a flash of movement to her left caught her eye.

Elsa stopped, turning slowly and tensing. The stone halls before her were empty, as far as she could tell, though the shadowy alcoves could hide anyone easily. She frowned for a second, straining her ears to listen with all her might – silence pressed on her, helping to convince that her eyes had deceived her. Finally Elsa looked away slowly, still suspicious – but the pull of sheer curiosity sapped her caution.

The distraction stopped Elsa in her unthinking march towards the pull of the voice, and now she faltered, looking down the dark corridor she'd chosen with uncertainty. How could she just _know_, after all?

"This is ridiculous," Elsa murmured to herself, frustrated, shaking her head – but the answer presented itself to her suddenly, as if she'd just asked nicely. _Come_, the whisper compelled, this time leaving a sense of direction – though not coming _towards_ Elsa, as would a real voice, but drawing her towards _it_, pulling her down the hall, around corner after corner, down a flight of tight stairs.

All too soon, Elsa descended into what looked like the entrance into the dungeons of Camelot. It was devoid of people, though several torches hung in scones along the stone walls. Elsa frowned, wondering at the absence of guards, but brushed the thought off, her determination to reach the speaker of the strange voice greater than ever. She strode across the quiet room, lifting a torch from its brace and holding it before her as she ventured through a maze of tunnels and narrow hallways. Once she saw a pair of guards marching past along an adjacent hall, but they didn't look her way or notice the light; her heart nearly jumped out of her throat anyway, but there was no danger. It was as if fate _wanted_ her to have a safe journey as she slipped past the heavy iron gate, which was strangely unlocked, that barred her from the rough-hewn stone passage that lay beyond; down she trekked along the steep flight of stairs, until the tunnel narrowed and became so irregular it was clearly of nature's make. Still Elsa followed, pursuing the distant whisper of the voice.

It led her to a dead end, of sorts.

Elsa rounded the final turn of the tunnel to be met by the dark vastness of open air. Stumbling to a halt, Elsa waved her torch before her, trying to see her surroundings; it took a moment before comprehension set in.

She stood on a ledge that hung high along the wall of an enormous cavern, reaching far overhead and just as far below. The walls were jagged and rough, with sharp stalactites and stalagmites adding to the formidable scene. The opposite wall was close to Elsa in comparison to the walls on her left and right; they simply faded away into darkness, denying her the knowledge of just how big the cave truly was. And it was empty – all Elsa could see in the murk was rock and darkness, the acute edges of the formations standing out in the uniform gray like ominous warnings.

Elsa's frown of confusion deepened, and for a moment she stood in silence, staring out into the vault and at the ground beneath her feet, watching how it tapered off into open air. _Have I been deceived?_ Elsa shook her head slowly, head lowered.

"I know that you're here," Elsa said clearly, having to raise her voice for it to seem adequate in the vastness of the cave before her. "Who are you? Why did you call me here? Show yourself!" Her voice assumed authority and expected obedience – it was the voice of Princess Elsa, heir to Arendelle's throne.

For a minute, the silence stretched taunt, bristling with potential. Then – a sharp, precise cackling filled the air, loud despite the size of the cavern. It swelled, filling Elsa with an unexplainable sense of foreboding, before it cut off with an unmistakable gasp for breath.

"Well, well, well," The rumbling voice said slyly, echoing powerfully from the open air before Elsa. "It seems that you have found your voice, Princess Elsa. I have to say, it suits you better than the cowering that you've done in the rest of your time here in Camelot."

The voice was exactly the same as the one Elsa had heard in her head, except that it now had a certain ring of power to it. Elsa didn't have the chance to ponder it as a cacophony of rocks screeching and scraping against one another reached her ears. Then, there was a deep groan...a straining sound and a tremendous whoosh of air, even as the gust swirled past Elsa...the sharp clang and clatter of a thick chain, which Elsa suddenly noticed dangling from high above, beginning to swing rapidly…and then, the noise became insignificant as an enormous _something_ fell from above, twisting and beating gigantic leathery wings...the dragon crashed down on a spire of rock directly before Elsa's ledge, jutting out its fierce head and glaring at Elsa with smoldering amber eyes.

Elsa gaped, rendered mute by the awesome sight; she found herself backed up against the ragged stone wall, unconsciously having moved away from the beast before her. It shifted its clawed legs underneath it, lowering its great body to crouch over the pinnacle of rock, and stretched its head closer to Elsa, examining her. Elsa stood frozen, not wanting to provoke it, and for a moment they remained that way in silence.

And then, the dragon opened its mouth, revealing rows of jagged, menacing teeth…and spoke.

"Or perhaps I spoke too soon," It said in its rumbling, knowing voice, a sinister trace of amusement coloring the words. It continued staring at Elsa with its bright, deadly glare as she jumped in shock.

"You!" Elsa shouted in her astonishment, eyes wide as she tried to take the dragon in. _A talking dragon, locked under Camelot – how – _"How are you –" Her words died and she simply stared, brow clenched in her amazement.

"Hm. Well, precisely _what_ did you expect?" The dragon asked her, its voice lilting with humor in such a human way that it unnerved Elsa. She gaped at it, shaking her head.

"Not this," she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away. The dragon reared its great head up and _laughed_, rumbling deeply.

"Oh, fate is such a funny thing," it said, shaking its head. "Such a threat, and yet stunned into silence by the sight of a dragon…we shall see whether your path leads to our destruction."

Elsa snapped her mouth shut, blinking and shutting away her fear of the dragon, shocked at its words. "What? I'm not – what do you mean, a _threat_? _Whose_ destruction?"

"You, Princess Elsa, are a sorceress of elemental magic – a magic that you cannot fully control. Your arrival here in Camelot has sealed our fate, though there are still several futures that could unfold. The future that does come to pass is entirely up to you in this situation. So, I must ask you – while journeying to Camelot, did you meet anyone of importance? Did you speak to anyone who knew of your powers, or had similar powers themselves?" The dragon's voice was blunt, differing sharply from the deceptive tone it had had earlier, and the urgency in its voice stirred the pit of anxiety in Elsa's stomach.

"I – yes, I did, there was a sorceress…she helped me get away from Arendelle – but how did you know? Why does it _matter_?" Elsa shook her head, flustered and confused.

The dragon observed her for a long moment, its eyes never wavering from her face. Finally it let out a long and slow breath, sounding resolute. "I see," it said slowly, a hard note entering its voice. "Then you have chosen."

"_Chosen_? Chosen what?"

"I wonder – where did you plan to go? After leaving Camelot – who is it that you would turn to?" The beast's tone held an undecipherable note, and Elsa took a shuffling step back with a growing apprehension.

"I would…I would have tried to find the sorceress who helped me," Elsa said slowly, frowning. "She said she could help me with my magic…that she was alone too, like me. She helped me; I owe her a debt."

The dragon nodded its terrible head regally, its gold eyes narrowed. "Exactly," it said, its voice cutting. "There is no turning back from this fate now…that is, there is no way for _you_ to turn back." The muscles in the dragon's forelegs bulged as it stood up, unfurling its huge wings a little. "But I cannot stand by and watch this world fall, letting you destroy the one who would save us all. Your decisions leave me no choice."

Elsa took a hesitant step back, feeling her back brush the rough rock wall behind her. "What are you talking about…" asked Elsa in a low voice, suspicion and panic flaring. The dragon's voice was becoming more menacing by the second.

"It is a shame that things turned out this way, Elsa," it said in its rumbling voice, eyes still narrowed and following Elsa's every move. "If you had chosen the right path, then you and Emrys could have built a great world together. It pains me to see one with such potential lose themselves to the evils of this world…but it _is_ too late. Farewell, Elsa."

Elsa was shaking her head, frantically trying to find the words through her growing fear. "Wait – you've got this all wrong, I haven't chosen _any_ path – I didn't lose myself to _evil_ –" She raised her hands into the air, as if to ward off the dragon's accusations, determined to convince it otherwise – but it was blinking slowly, drawing its head back like a snake about to strike…

Elsa stumbled back, losing her balance as she stepped on the hem of her skirt and fell heavily to the hard stone ground; she tried to scramble back, raising her hand in feeble defense, but she knew that she'd be too slow. The dragon reared its head high into the air, and Elsa let out a sharp cry, her heart pounding in her chest – then the beast's fierce head darted forward, its jaw unhinging with a dull roar and a wave of heat. As if in slow motion, Elsa saw the burning light flare in the back of the dragon's throat, watching as the rush of golden flames hurried towards her with deadly speed…

And then, time froze.

At least, it felt that way, as for a moment the only thing that Elsa could feel was the drowning panic. The flames slowed in midair, decreasing in speed until they unfurled towards her at a snail's pace. She looked about frantically, bewildered, before she realized the cold and familiar feeling that was still flooding her body. _Oh._

Elsa scrambled to her feet, her hands still extended before her. Her gloves, she realized in shock, had disappeared; a few seared scraps of fabric littered the ledge beneath her feet. Elsa snapped her gaze back to the dragon, gasping, and shoved her palms towards the roaring beast, her only thought to stop it. From her hands swirled a pale blue light, shooting towards the approaching fire and meeting it in a blast of illumination. Before Elsa could fully comprehend what happened, the fire disappeared and brought a wave of darkness in its place; Elsa had to squint for a second before she could see the scene before her.

The dragon stood stiff, its wings held stiffly in the position that they had been in when it had breathed fire at Elsa; its head was still extended in that violent pose, with its jaw held open by the thick, binding ice that was swiftly overtaking the dragon's huge body. Even as Elsa watched, the coat of ice extended down to the dragon's curved tail, sealing it in a pale and glimmering cage. Elsa might have laughed in relief, then, but a giant _crack _suddenly shook the cavern. Splinters of ice flew through the air as the dragon jerked one of its wings loose, thrashing it about. In quick succession, the dragon's left foreleg, then the other wing broke free, frantically trying to shake all of the remaining ice away from its body.

Elsa was taking swift steps backwards, not wanting to turn her back on the beast, when it snapped its jaw shut with tremendous force, sending jagged shards of ice flying. It began whipping its head around in rage, letting loose a terrible roar that emanated its distress at being encased in ice; Elsa gasped, flinching away, and turned on heel, tearing down the stone tunnel in terror with the dragon's agonized cries echoing after her.

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**So…like I said, things are picking up. Revelations and even more secrets are on their way…but you'll have to wait until next week to learn more. ;) Speaking of next week, I'm not entirely sure what day my update will be – as summer is approaching, my schedule is beginning to get all crazy. But I will definitely update sometime next week, hopefully Monday or Tuesday, because frankly I'm too into this story to let myself slack off. **

**Thanks for reading, everyone, and don't forget to review! Have a nice day =D**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	13. Explanations

**Hi! Here's the latest chapter, hope you enjoy! Don't forget to review :)**

**Chapter Thirteen: Explanations**

The uneven stone pressed uncomfortably against Merlin's back, but he didn't move, only sitting and listening intently for any sign of something going wrong. The ragged tunnel that opened up around the hidden corner and to his left brought no sound, though, and Merlin tensely let out a puff of breath.

That evening, Merlin had been reluctant to go back to Gaius's chambers and have to begin arguing with him about Elsa again. However, he'd been thinking about Elsa and how scared she had seemed at the prospect of meeting Uther. It had occurred to him that – though Merlin planned to help Elsa get out of Camelot to avoid meeting the king – the princess didn't even know that Merlin wanted to help her yet, and if she was so anxious to leave Camelot, then she'd do it as soon as possible. So, Merlin had decided to station himself outside of her chambers for the night, hiding himself behind a set of heavy drapes. As vigilant as he tried to be, soon Merlin had begun to doze off, despite how he attempted to keep his eyes trained on the door to Elsa's chambers.

Merlin didn't remember falling asleep, but he certainly remembered waking up; a sudden creak of stiff hinges had startled him awake, and his gaze had darted over to the hallway just as a slender figure obscured by a blue cloak shut the door to Elsa's chambers with a soft thud. The figure had turned towards Merlin, revealing the face beneath the hood – sure enough, it had been Elsa.

It had seemed that Elsa had been about to make her way towards the main stairway and out of the castle, but just as she had started off, she froze – but Merlin knew why, because he had heard the voice too.

_You…_whispered the unmistakable voice of the Great Dragon. After getting over his own shock, Merlin had carefully watched as Elsa fell to her knees, confusion evident in her quick breathing and tensed appearance. The dragon had continued speaking to her – _You…come, Elsa. You'll know the way_. And, after a long moment of indecision, Elsa had; she'd started off in the opposite direction of what she'd originally planned, instead striding towards Merlin's hiding spot. Merlin had jumped to his feet, ready to follow her, but perhaps it had been too hasty, because Elsa stopped, looking around intently. Finally she turned away and started on her way again – and Merlin had followed, his heart thumping loudly in his growing unease and worry.

Sure enough, Elsa had marched swiftly through the darkened castle, eventually descending into the dungeons and the tunnels leading to the Great Dragon's cave. Upon reaching the broken gate that marked the beginning of the narrow passages that let out in the dragon's cavern, Merlin had stopped, hesitant to follow Elsa all the way. He had known that going all the way through would be a mistake, for multiple reasons; firstly, there were no other branches of the tunnel past the gate, so when Elsa came back, she'd definitely bump into Merlin. Merlin didn't want to have to explain what he was doing following her around the castle, and then she'd be forced to explain to him what she was doing wandering it...for now, it was best not to breach that subject. Besides those reasons, however, Merlin also hadn't wanted to eavesdrop on her and the dragon's conversation. He remembered the first time that the dragon had called him down to the cave; what the dragon had said about Merlin and his destiny had been rather personal, and Merlin definitely wouldn't have wanted anyone listening in. Now, he would never willingly inflict that on Elsa – so, Merlin had found a hidden niche along the rough stone passage, settled himself down against the notched rock, and resolved himself to wait.

Unfortunately, waiting proved harder than Merlin had hoped.

Merlin found it impossible to keep his hands still; he tapped his fingers nervously against the rock floor, fiddled with his jacket, or simply wrung his hands with a clenched jaw and carefully controlled breathing. It seemed as if he felt every second go by with painstaking slowness, even though he couldn't have been hiding there for more than a few minutes; it really took all his willpower not to leap up and race down that tunnel to see what was happening with Elsa and the dragon. Why would he want to speak to her, anyway? Surely Elsa didn't have some great destiny in Camelot like Merlin did. The last time that Merlin had seen the dragon was during the incident of the Questing Beast, and though Merlin had saved Arthur, his mother, and Gaius in the end, he couldn't help but still feel a little resentful and untrusting of the dragon. Merlin knew that the creature acted only to ensure that magic would eventually be brought back to the land…and that he didn't care whether his actions were right or wrong.

_What if it has something to do with Morgana's nightmare?_ Merlin thought suddenly, clenching his hands into fists. _Maybe he's warning her...but no, he's always going on about how you can't change destiny and whatnot…_Merlin's mind conjured endless possibilities, and each succeeded in making him more anxious than before. Unable to bear worrying anymore, Merlin closed his eyes and began to count, methodically chanting in his mind. For the most part, it worked, and after a minute the hard knot of tension in his stomach began to ease.

Merlin had only reached eighty-nine when the cold draft brushed towards him, from the direction of the dragon's cave. He tensed, about to jump to his feet, when the terrible roar echoed around the tunnel, reverberating about the stone passage and sounding like a huge beast in excruciation...Merlin gasped, pushing himself up, nearly launching himself out into the tunnel before he heard the footsteps approaching.

Merlin threw himself back into the niche, wincing as he hard stone jabbed his back. Inclining his head fractionally, he held his breath as Elsa ran past, her cloak billowing. She soon disappeared from sight, but not before Merlin caught the sound of her ragged cries of fear.

Merlin gulped, staring at the spot where Elsa had slipped from his line of sight. If she was hurt...Merlin's limbs were dying to go after her, but he steeled himself and stepped out into the tunnel to turn back the way she had come. The cries of the Great Dragon were still ringing through the air, furious and agonized. Merlin shook his head and clenched his jaw, striding towards the dragon. _What could she possibly have done?_

As Merlin neared the end of the tunnel, the flickering light of a torch left on the ledge lit the way. Merlin slowed, emerging onto the ledge cautiously, but he was still unprepared for the sight that met his eyes.

Perched on his usual spire of rock before the ledge that Merlin stood on was the Great Dragon, but no terrible wound marred his huge body. Instead, the beast's entire frame was strangely colored, glittering and seeming paler than usual. Parts of the dragon's body had thickened, locking some of his limbs in place, while others were merely discolored. The dragon flailed around, beating his wings on empty air and lashing his tail about; as Merlin watched in confusion, the dragon bowed his glimmering head to his forelegs and began using his sharp claws to try and scrape of the strange substance that still coated the beast. For a moment, Merlin could only watch in bewilderment, wondering if Elsa had enchanted him – but then, a shard of the glimmering material, laying by his feet on the ledge, caught his eye.

Merlin bent slowly, cautiously reaching out a hand to touch the sharp-looking piece, about a foot long and four inches wide at the widest part. As Merlin wrapped his hand around the weapon-like shard, he felt nothing for the first millisecond – but then, his palm burned as if he'd placed it on the surface of a hot stove. He dropped the object, grasping his hand with a hiss of pain – but despite the burning, he could tell that the object was _cold_, not hot.

"What?" Merlin whispered, crouching and nudging the shard with a finger. Suddenly, he made the connection, feeling a coat of icy water on his hand where he'd picked up the object – it was a shard of _ice_. Merlin took in a gasp of recognition – _Morgana's dream._ "Ice..."

Another sharp roar from the dragon grabbed Merlin's attention, and he whipped his head around to see the dragon twisting his head around, opening his jaw wide to let out a blast of golden fire aimed at his back. _Melting off the ice..._Merlin watched in fascination as the dragon bathed his body in the angry fire, the ice dripping from his body as water.

Finally the dragon reared its head up towards the distant ceiling of the cavern, roaring in fury. "...Traitor!" He finally burst out, growling ferociously. "Liar! I knew it! ..._Witch_!" He let out another tremendous roar, shaking his head in lingering fury.

"What happened?" Merlin shouted at the flailing dragon, spreading his arms. "Why did Elsa do this?"

The dragon continued shaking for a short moment before he composed itself, lowering his head to glare at Merlin with narrowed eyes. "You're on first-name terms with the witch already, I see," he said maliciously, holding his wings extended at uncomfortable-looking angles. "I suppose that you've already decided that she couldn't _possibly_ be a danger to Camelot, hmm? And besides – the last time we met, you told me that you would not return. Have you had a change of heart?"

Merlin sighed, averting his eyes. "I'm only here because Elsa was," he said firmly, frowning. "I needed to know why she came here…why did you call her?"

The dragon bent its head closer to Merlin, examining him so intently it was unsettling. "You _know_ that she has magic," he said sharply. "And if you were unsure of how powerful she is, wonder no more, for she is very powerful to be able to do _this_ to me." The dragon shrugged his great wings in example. "I see I underestimated her abilities. Unfortunately she escaped, and now it may be that Camelot and the entire world will have to suffer the destruction that she will wreak, as the prophecies said she would."

Merlin felt a cold hand grasp his heart, and he took a step away from the dragon, shaking his head. "No," he breathed, thinking of Elsa – she's been so timid, unsure, _innocent_ – and that feeling he'd gotten when she'd been about to use her magic; it had definitely been a good one. _She can't be evil!_ "No…"

Merlin turned away from the dragon, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. After taking a deep breath, he put his hands on his hips with a frown. "I can't believe that," he said bluntly, shaking his head. "Elsa's not evil, I can tell – there's no way she could cause _destruction_."

The dragon snorted, his scaled nostrils flaring. "This witch has been in Camelot for only a few _days_ – you don't know her or anything about what she would or would _not_ do. Why do you protect her so firmly?" He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head.

"I don't expect you to understand!" Merlin shouted, gesturing angrily. "Not when all you care about – your only goal is to bring magic back to this land, no matter the consequences or the price that others have to pay."

The dragon merely blinked, adorning a skeptical expression. "Merlin, do not bring old quarrels into this matter; it is beneath you. If you wish for my help, then you must cooperate."

Merlin opened his mouth to find no words, and he looked away with a short sigh. "…When we brought her to Camelot, she was about to use magic as she was being attacked. And when she raised her hand to do the magic – I had this _feeling_, like something good was about to happen. I didn't sense _anything_ bad about her. And, here in Camelot – we have this…" Merlin struggled to find the right words. "…_connection_…it's like I know what she's feeling, even when she tries to hide it. I don't know if she noticed it too, but…I can tell you one thing, she's _not_ evil. There's no way." Merlin shook his head firmly, staring the dragon in the eye.

The dragon slowly looked away, closing his eyes. When he turned back, they were bright with determination. "Merlin. I know that you hate to condemn someone for a crime that they have yet to commit. I agree, it does seem wrong, but can you not see how many lives are saved through this process? You have disagreed with me on many occasions, but this time you _must_ _listen_. Elsa is no friend of yours – in time you will see that, especially if you continue to try and help her. If you side with her, it will result in the destruction of your future – your destiny with Arthur to unite the lands of Albion. I implore you, Merlin – ignore this connection. No good will come of it."

Merlin had turned away halfway through the dragon's speech, and now he faced him again, frowning. "How can you know so much?" Merlin asked simply, his voice quiet. "You can't know all possible futures, and you can't know which actions bring about one future and which ones bring about another. _How_ can you know that my ignoring my connection with Elsa will stop this prophecy, whatever it is? How can you know that, by helping her and _guiding_ her, I won't end up stopping that prophecy after all? Because the way Elsa is, right now – it's not evil. And the way she is right now – I _know_ that I can help her, and make sure that her magic goes the right way."

"By trying to stop a prophecy, you may very well end up _causing_ it. By trying to help her use her magi for good, you may end up causing her to turn to darkness."

"Well then how do you know that you aren't causing this prophecy by trying to talk me out of helping her?" Merlin shouted, gesturing wildly. "Elsa's not evil – she's just someone who needs my help."

"Elsa," the dragon said in a ringing voice, lifting his wings. "is an elementalist whose name has been surrounded by prophecies since before she was born! Dozens of different futures had been seen, but this one prophecy was always the most foretold, the most pondered, the most _feared_. She was prophesized to betray other's trust and force innocents to pay the price of her mistake – and she was prophesized to cross paths with _you_, Merlin, for you have a part in her destiny as well." The dragon fell silent, waiting for Merlin's reaction.

Merlin examined the ground beneath his feet with a hard stare, chewing his lip and shaking his head stubbornly. After a long moment, he lifted his head without meeting the dragon's gaze. "An elementalist, what's that?" he asked shortly, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

The dragon sighed, lowering his head. "An elementalist is one who was born with the power to control the forces of a natural _element_ – such as, in this case, _ice_. Elementalists are instinctively powerful, as well as quite rare, especially since the Purge. They will always have more control over their own element than any other person, and that includes _you_, Merlin. However, there is an advantage to be had over elementalists, and it is this: elements that are opposites are vulnerable to the other. So, in this scenario, you are in luck."

Merlin raised his eyebrows, skeptical. "What do you mean – I'm not an elementalist!"

"On the contrary," The dragon said, sounding like he took immense enjoyment from knowing things that Merlin didn't. "You have powers over the element _fire_. Therefore, you have a weapon that will allow you to defeat Elsa when the time comes, because your magic is stronger than hers."

Merlin let out a burst of skeptical laughter, frowning. "How am _I_," he asked dubiously, touching his chest. "an _elementalist_? I wasn't born with the power to set things on _fire_ – I was born with the power to move things, or do other practical things – there's no special connection to fire. And I can _control_ my magic, but it seems like Elsa can't. Wouldn't we be the same, if we were both elementalists?"

"The reason that your power over fire was never revealed when you were younger, or that you feel no special connection to fire, is because you are also _Emrys_, with more power than any other. Your abilities to use your magic for other uses besides manipulating fire are just as potent, and because they are, as you say, more practical, they appeared more often. However, let me just ask you this – of all the elements, which seem the most appealing to _you_? Water, ice, earth, wind, light, shadow…or fire?"

Merlin chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought, but in the end there was no denying it. "…fire," he admitted with a sigh. "Though I'd rather it wasn't, because fire seems more destructive than most elements…but anyway, what about me being able to control my magic? Why can't Elsa, if I can?"

"That is merely a matter of practice. Of course, because you are Emrys, your abilities are greater, so you are more able than Elsa. But, she could learn to gain a better control over her magic, though I would prefer that she _didn't_ considering the damage that she could already do _here_." The dragon lifted his wings slightly, gesturing at the lingering pieces of ice that still clung to his body. Merlin frowned, tilting his head and examining the dragon.

"That's another thing," he said slowly, confused. "If fire and ice are opposite elements and they have power over one another…then how could Elsa do so much to you? I mean, you're a creature of magic and fire, so wouldn't you have more power than her? Why couldn't you stop her?"

The dragon ruffled his wings, still seeming extremely offended by Elsa's actions. "Because," he pronounced delicately. "She was _lucky_. If Elsa had tried to freeze my fire or to shoot a blade of ice at me, it would have failed, for my fire would have prevailed and my scales would have protected me from the ice. However, by chance, she chose to freeze _me_, which did have effect; the fire in my body is vulnerable to her ice because it cannot retaliate. If her magic had been any stronger, she may have frozen me."

Merlin examined the dragon in concern, unable to help feeling anxious at the fact that Elsa had nearly killed him. After a lingering moment of silence, Merlin pursed his lips, shaking his head. "Why would she do that?" he asked with a troubled frown.

"As I have said, Merlin, she is destined for _evil_; hurting others is of no concern to her –"

Merlin cut the dragon off, slashing the air with his hand. "No! That's not what I meant." Merlin shook his head. "I mean, what _happened_? You're telling me that she just _strolled_ in here and tried to kill you with her ice? I'm pretty sure that she would have been terrified at the sight of you, at least at first. So what happened?"

The dragon turned his head, irritated. "I merely tried to explain the situation to her. I told her of the future that she would undoubtedly lead, and I tried to resolve the matter. In retaliation, she did _this_."

"You tried to resolve the matter." Merlin stated skeptically, sensing that the dragon was hiding something. "Exactly what does that mean?"

"It does not matter," the dragon told him, lifting his head haughtily. "For I did not succeed. Now, I fear you are the only one with the chance to stop her. Merlin, do not ignore this. You must beware her. Use your powers to kill her, and then we will never have to experience the disaster that her existence would lead to." The dragon's voice was pleading, more than commanding; he lowered his head towards Merlin in his insistence.

Merlin closed his eyes, turning away. Slowly he shook his head, resolved. "No." Merlin said clearly, working his jaw. "I won't – I _refuse_ to punish someone for something that they haven't even done yet, or even _tried_ to do. I don't know what Elsa's future will bring, but I do know that I have to try to help her. I _know_ that I can do it. And I will." He took a step back, towards the tunnel.

"Do not be a fool, Merlin; you do not understand the consequences! It will be too late for you to take back your actions when the world as we know it is no more! You cannot –"

But Merlin was already striding down the tunnel, shaking his head and clenching his jaw. Behind him, the dragon's cries still echoed about the narrow passage, rebuking him, but he ignored it. "Merlin –" the dragon cried, angry and desperate. "_Merlin_!"

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**Thanks for reading and hope you liked! **

**Also wanted to clarify one thing: when the dragon says that Merlin is an elementalist of fire, this is not quite true, because Merlin is actually a dragonlord who hasn't become one yet. Merlin doesn't know this yet, because the setting here is only between season one and season two. Despite the fact that Merlin hasn't inherited his position of dragonlord yet, he still has considerable powers over fire, for one because he is Emrys and then of course because of the dragonlord thing. But, because this story isn't centered on the dragonlord thing, the dragon just lies to Merlin and tells him he's an elementalist to make things easier.**

**And one other thing: I'm not actually sure if Merlin is aware, in the time frame between season one and season two, how powerful he is and exactly what being Emrys means. But, for this story, he does need to know that Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer to ever be and all that, so I'm just going to pretend that at this point he **_**does**_** know, even if he technically **_**doesn't**_**. Sorry!**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	14. The Truth

**Hey there! Welcome to the latest chapter of A Tale of Fire and Ice…and, though short, what a chapter it is! Well, no spoilers at the opening A/N, so you'll just have to read it for yourself ;) But anyway, this chapter is a little shorter than usual…well, I needed to end it somewhere, and this was better than waiting til it was like 20 pages long – for me, anyway. Oh well, on with the chapter! :)**

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**Chapter Fourteen: The Truth**

By the time that Merlin got out of the dungeons and back into the castle, Elsa was nowhere to be seen, and Merlin was certain that she'd left. Still, he rushed up to her chambers, knocking carefully before pushing open the unlocked door. As he'd expected, it was empty; the bed had never been slept in, as he knew, and everything was carefully untouched.

"Okay," Merlin muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Out of Camelot, then…" Merlin gulped as his mind raced, already planning how he would sneak out of the city and how he could track Elsa down. The thought made him pause, and Merlin walked slowly to the door, frowning.

Elsa was getting out of Camelot – maybe she had already made it, and was safely on her way. If she could get far enough away, then she wouldn't have to meet Uther, and she'd be fine. That was what Merlin had wanted to achieve. _She's already gone…so why am I going to follow her?_

To help her with her magic? If he went, then Elsa either wouldn't trust him, or would demand to know how Merlin knew so much – and then, what could he say? Besides, he was just a servant, and Elsa was a princess. Why would she want to listen to whatever excuse he came up with? Merlin shook his head, shoving down the uncertainty. With all that the dragon had said, he couldn't just let Elsa leave without speaking to her, despite whatever she was destined for. He had to help her.

Mind made up, Merlin slipped out of Elsa's chambers, the sense of purpose seeming to give his feet wings. Despite the resolute reasons that he'd given the dragon, Merlin still couldn't entirely decide what it was that made him so sure that Elsa couldn't be destined to fulfill the destiny that the dragon was so sure of. However, the thought of Elsa as _evil_ sent a wave of nausea through Merlin, signaling just how wrong it was to him.

Dispelling his worries, Merlin was quick to slip through the citadel and out into the lower town, flitting from shadow to shadow, evading the occasional pair of guards that marched past. As he strode out through the city gates, his mind flashed to the thought of Gaius, and then Arthur; they'd miss him come morning, if he wasn't back yet. Feeling regretful that the last time he'd spoken to Gaius was in an argument, Merlin didn't stop, only shaking his head a little and steeling his resolve.

Reaching the road that led out into the forest and away from Camelot, Merlin slowed his rush, eyes darting to try and find a trace of Elsa. There were dozens of sets of footprints in the pockmarked, furrowed dirt, some clear and some fading, but which could be Elsa's? Merlin soon found himself stymied, shaking his head and berating himself for not paying just a little more attention to Arthur's lectures on tracking. He doubled back, examining the road closely, until he finally found a set of prints that seemed to be the newest and followed them. Luckily, they seemed the right choice; not more than a hundred feet down the road, the pair of footprints stepped off the path, beginning to wind their way into the forest. Grimacing, Merlin ventured into the trees, redoubling his efforts to keep track of the prints; sometimes he had to rely entirely on guessing, but somehow he always stayed precisely on course, never completely losing sight of the evidence that Elsa had gone that way. Branches bent and dangling, crushed underbrush, the occasional footprint pressed into a soft patch of earth, and even a ragged fragment of expensive, delicately stitched fabric caught in the prickly branches of a dead bush, continued to ensure him that he was going the right way. The hours blurred by, unnoticed, as Merlin continued onwards, until Merlin began to recognize the area.

The surrounding trees and landscape brought back memories, some of which Merlin would rather forget, but Elsa's trail continued to lead unmistakably onwards. Before he knew it, Merlin was slipping carefully through the thinning greenery, the glimmering surface of the Lake of Avalon just beginning to reveal itself.

Merlin's breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of a cloaked figure sitting hunched on a rock on the shore – with her white-blonde braid dangling over one shoulder, there was no doubt that it was Elsa. Merlin hesitated, wavering as he observed her uncertain-looking form, but eventually he clenched his jaw, moving forward.

It took only a few steps forward before Merlin's foot landing on a dry twig with a resounding _crunch_, loud in the silent forest. Through the veil of leaves and foliage, Merlin saw Elsa whip around, alarm plain on her face as she leaped to her feet, so he pushed his way through the bushes, having to force his suddenly leaden limbs to move properly. A beat of silence ensued as Merlin emerged onto the lake's shore, meeting Elsa's shocked gaze with an uncertain, almost pleading look.

"Merlin!" Elsa gasped, brow furrowed, as her eyes flashed about in search of anyone else who might have accompanied him. Not finding any, her eyes bored into his as she took a shaky breath, shocked. "What are you – what are you _doing_ here?"

Merlin gulped, shifting on his feet, and found himself struggling for words, his own eyes darting away from Elsa's as if in pursuit of a reprieve. "I, um," he stammered, blinking. "I, well, I – I followed you." Merlin swallowed heavily, chiding himself for being so unprepared. _Pull yourself together!_

Elsa continued to gape at him, frowning in disbelief. "Why!" Elsa asked clearly, fear and anger coloring her voice.

Merlin blinked, reaching a hand to the back of his neck uncertainly. "I just – um, well I saw you –" Merlin stuttered quickly, hoping desperately that he wouldn't mess this up. "I saw you leaving the castle, and I, uh, I just wanted to make sure that you...were okay..."

Elsa drew herself up haughtily, seeming foreboding and defenseless in the same instant. "I'm fine," she said coldly, staring at Merlin for a long moment before looking away.

Merlin released a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding, shoulders slumping as he watched Elsa, knowing exactly how she was feeling right now. It wasn't just because he knew what it was like to be scared and alone – it was because just stepping into sight of Elsa had plunged him into an inescapable well of emotions, making him feel lost and sorrowful. Merlin gulped, knowing that this was the result of their _connection_, and he took a step forward, even more determined to help Elsa.

"You know, they're going to think," Merlin started carefully, watching Elsa carefully for her reaction. "that you've been kidnapped, tomorrow morning. When they realize that you're gone."

The silence made the surrounding forest noises seem loud – the rustling of branches, the tiny movements of night animals, and the whisper of the lake's water stirring in the breeze all seemed to press on Merlin's ears. "And what do you think?" Elsa asked finally, her voice suddenly devoid of all emotion.

Merlin took a breath, tilting his head slightly. "That," he said slowly, unable to keep the try at humor from his voice. "you don't enjoy Camelot's cooking as much as let on? Believe me, you wouldn't be the first," he finished with a little, dry-throated laugh.

Elsa ducked her head, but Merlin still caught a glimpse of a smile on her face. "You shouldn't be here," she said after a while, her tone strained. "It could be dangerous."

"No, I want to help –" Merlin started anxiously, but Elsa cut him off, turning to face him with icy blue eyes.

"I _ran away_, Merlin," she stated loudly, though her voice shook. "I appreciate Camelot's hospitality more than I can say, but I could not stay there any longer. I left on my own free will, and I won't – I _can't_ go back."

Merlin shook his head rapidly, frowning. "No – I wasn't going to try and bring you back," he assured her defensively. "I only wanted to help you."

Elsa laughed in a short, humorless burst, shaking her head. "Then you might as well leave, because there's no way that you can do that."

"How do you know?" Merlin asked, almost breathless, as he tried to keep calm. This was headed down a road that Merlin always took the greatest care to steer clear of, and yet this time there was nothing for him to do but plow onwards.

"No one can help me, Merlin," Elsa said swiftly, her voice quivering. "There's nothing that _anyone_ here could do, let alone you. I just – I need to go, and maybe I'll find someone who can." Her voice seemed sadder than ever at this point, and Merlin fought to remain where he stood, planted firmly about ten feet away from Elsa.

"Well, to tell you the truth –" Merlin began hesitantly, wincing as he debated with himself fiercely. Exactly how far could he go? Finally, he made up his mind – _it can't hurt_. "I actually saw what happened…I mean, when I followed you – I saw that you went down to see the dragon."

Shock crossed Elsa's face once again, followed immediately by suspicion. "You – you followed me down there?" Her lip trembled as she stood there uncertainly, fierce tremors wracking her entire frame. "Then you – did you hear –?"

"Um, no – I mean, yeah, but –" Merlin backtracked before he realized that this was probably the only way for him to explain how he knew about her magic. "I only heard – well, I know that you have magic." He choked out the words, wincing at the knowledge of how scared they were probably making Elsa.

The blood drained from her already-pale face, and she seemed to slump in defeat; turning away abruptly, Elsa stared at the lake's surface with wide eyes. After a moment – "What are you doing here?" Her voice was faint, barely audible, but Merlin still heard the plea in it.

"Like I said..." Merlin replied slowly, smiling. "...I want to help you."

Elsa didn't turn. "Why?" Her voice trembled with uncertainty, sounding lost. "I...I have magic. Your king would have me killed if he knew. You – you're committing _treason_, just speaking to me; you shouldn't be here."

"Well, it's a good thing he's not going to know, then, isn't it?"

Elsa shook her head fiercely, taking a shuddering breath. "_Why did you come_?"

Merlin hesitated, chewing on his words for only a moment. "...because, I don't agree with Uther's law." He said deliberately, staring at Elsa's back. "Because I don't think that _all_ magic and _all_ people who practice it are evil, and I definitely don't think that you are. And because...I know that it must have been hard for you, having magic and having to hide it. I understand."

Elsa shook her head again, letting out a humorless bark of laughter. "You _don't_ – you could never understand."

"You're wrong."

Merlin's simple words seemed to rouse Elsa, and she turned, looking at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. "You don't! You have _no idea_ – _no_ idea, what it's like having to hide who you are, or be scared of what you could become. You couldn't _imagine_ what it's like knowing that an entire kingdom is going to be depending on you, and knowing that – in an instant's mistake – you could destroy it all. You don't – there's _no_ _one_ who'll ever understand. You're a good person, Merlin, but you and I are as different as night and day." A single tear trailed down Elsa's cheek as she spoke.

Merlin lowered his eyes, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, sorrow welling in his heart. It pained him to see Elsa like this, so afraid and alone. _Different as night and day_...Merlin shook off the thought, continuing. "But whether or not we're alike or different – I still want to help you. Uther's going to send out patrols looking for you tomorrow, and I can help you avoid them; I know this area well, and I know that you want to stay away from the city."

"You can't." Elsa's voice was more composed now, with her resolve sounding in her firm words.

"But – why not?" Merlin sputtered, confused. "You might not be able to get away otherwise."

"I don't care. I'm going to put you in danger, Merlin." She paused for a moment, as if letting her words sink in. "If you're caught helping me and I'm found to have magic, then you'll be executed too. And even if you weren't caught...even then, it's not safe. I'm don't want – I'm not going to let you suffer on my account. You've been very kind already, and for that I thank you, but –"

Merlin interrupted after having listened to her concerned words up to that point, ignoring the warm feeling that blossomed inside him at Elsa's concern for his wellbeing. "...but I'm not leaving anyway, so it really doesn't matter what you say."

Elsa stared at Merlin, her eyes confused, taken aback, and perhaps even a little angry. Merlin stiffened, wondering if it was because he was just a servant – but she hadn't seemed like the type to judge a person based on status. She gaped at him for a second, lost for words. "What do you want from me?" Elsa finally asked bluntly, frowning.

"I don't _want_ anything from you, I just want to help you –"

"Look, I'm _trying_ to protect you – you're not helping anyone by staying here. Just go, please, I don't want to see you hurt –"

Merlin shook his head, unrelenting. He had known that it wouldn't be easy to get Elsa to trust him; he wasn't about to give up so easily. "I'm not going to get caught by Uther, and I'm not worried about getting hurt or anything. I've done plenty of this kind of thing before."

"What, breaking the law?" Elsa asked sharply.

Merlin nodded slowly. "When the law is wrong," he answered. "then yes."

Elsa began to shake her head frantically, taking a step away from Merlin. "No – no, this is all wrong. I just need to find Dezyra and get out of here, I can't get any one else involved –" She covered her mouth with her hands, closing her eyes. "You'll only make things worse if you try to help me. Please, just _go_ –"

Merlin walked towards Elsa slowly, reaching out to her. "You need to calm down," Merlin said in a soothing voice, raising his eyebrows. "And just explain what's going on. I promise I'll believe you –" As Merlin approached, the plants beneath his feet crackled; Elsa turned, stumbling away from Merlin.

"I don't want your help!" Elsa shouted angrily, raising her hands as if in defense. Merlin stopped, brow pinching together as a wave of frustration washed through him; he watched as Elsa balled her fists, her jaw clenched. "Just go back to Camelot, Merlin!"

Merlin shook his head, sighing. "Elsa –"

The wave of emotions hit him before her words did – the sense of frustration, hopelessness, confusion, longing and desperation, mingled together in strange and unfamiliar ways. Merlin flinched back, his words dying on his lips, even as Elsa opened her mouth with a scowl twisting her perfect features. "_Go_!" She slashed a hand through the air, punctuating her demand, but as Merlin watched with wide eyes, it did more than that. An arc of blue light trailed from Elsa's fingertips, condensing into hard projectiles that shot outwards like knives. Even as Elsa shouted angrily at Merlin, her eyes widened in horror as she saw the magic being done; she gasped in anguish, reaching out as if to try and take back the blue shards of what had to be ice, and when that failed, she crumpled in on herself, hugging her sides and crying out.

"_No_!"

Time slowed down for Merlin, and he watched as the glittering wave of ice shards approached. Even as they crept closer, he watched as the ice continued to form itself, with the near ends growing and tapering into fine points, while the farther sides thickened and built themselves up like jagged stakes. Merlin didn't waste any more time to think as the ice came within a three feet of his body; he flicked his hand up, palm outwards, and time crashed forward in a rush as his eyes glowed gold.

The ice came to a jarring halt just a few inches from his outstretched palm, fighting Merlin's resistance for a split-second before shattering; the splinters exploded into the air and dissolved. A loud silence filled the clearing as the light faded, and Merlin felt his heart pounding in his throat. _No turning back now…_

* * *

**Like I said – seemed a good place to end it, if a bit…cliff-hanger-ish. :D Sorry! It just happened ;) **

**Well anyway, hope you liked and please review! I should hopefully update next week as usual, but I should warn you that summer is totally wrecking my normal routine and so I have a much diminished slot of computer time. Ugh. :/ But let me assure you that I'm doing my best and that even if I'm late, there is absolutely no way that I'd abandon this. So…keep a lookout. :) See you next week – with fingers crossed – and have a good day! **

**~love from whatswiththemustache**


	15. The Beginning of Something

**Heey…sorry, this is late. This week has been a busy one, involving trips to Disneyland and being under the threat of having to go to Sacramento for two weeks (where I would be tragically deprived of internet, computers, or any other electronical devices the entire time), so I'm lucky to have gotten this done at all. Speaking of that, it makes me extremely annoyed that I finished typing this chapter at, like, 12:01 on Friday. I MEANT TO UPDATE THURSDAY. Ugh. **

**Anyway… be happy, because this is my **_**longest chapter yet **_**and contains the scene that may or may not have been the inspiration for this entire story altogether. LOL I've had it in my mind for, like, ages. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Fifteen: The Beginning of Something**

Elsa couldn't breathe.

Merlin's appearance had shocked her enough, and learning that he had come simply to be sure that she was all right...that had given her a fleeting sense of joy that was marred only by the constant tension and hopelessness that was threatening to overwhelm her. Elsa had been glad to see Merlin, beyond a doubt; his presence brought a strange familiarity that Elsa wished that she could revel in and never lose. Of course, sense had to catch up with her, before long; Elsa knew that Merlin would be in danger if he stayed. Uther's men might catch him helping Elsa, and then he'd be executed – or, Elsa's magic might get out of control; the very thought had made her nauseous, and she'd immediately decided that Merlin had to leave.

So, Elsa had steeled her nerve and tried her best to send him away. Even as she uttered her hard words and dismissed his offers of help, she'd felt the frustration and sadness that must have been coursing through him; though that was baffling to her, it seemed right and she couldn't force herself to imagine any other explanation. She ignored it, though; the prospect of Merlin hurt or calling Elsa a monster was unbearable, so Elsa did her best to ensure that it would not happen. But despite her angry words, her apparent desire to get away from Merlin…it hadn't been enough.

Even as she shouted at him to go, she'd felt the familiar cold, rising in her chest; the pale blue light streaming out from her fingertips had come an instant later. It hadn't been enough. Elsa would have screamed and pulled at her hair; she would have kicked at immobile objects and cursed the world, but it was too fast, and all she could do was cry out in vain – _no…please, not him too._

But then…

But _then_...

Elsa couldn't breathe.

The ice jarred to a halt, shattering; her icy light faded, and silence blanketed the clearing, but Elsa didn't even notice, really. All she saw was his eyes glowing gold, a bright, _burning_ gold – his palm held out before him, warding off the ice – _what?_ The telltale sign of magic, crowding the bright blue from Merlin's eyes…for an unending moment, the thought refused to be processed in Elsa's mind.

She watched blankly as Merlin stood stiffly for a second before letting his arm fall to his side, limp; she distantly heard him let out his breath in a hesitant huff. He raised his eyes to meet Elsa's wide ones, revealing wells of uncertainty and stubborn resolve, and the corners of his lips lifted fractionally into the tiniest of smiles.

"Like I said…I _do_ understand."

Elsa could only gape at him for a second, shaking her head in a tiny motion. _He's a sorcerer?_ The idea itself, Elsa found, wasn't that abstract…in fact, as Elsa repeated those words in her mind, she realized that it _fit_. That strange something that Elsa had sensed about Merlin ever since she'd met him…something hidden deep away. It sent a shiver down Elsa's spine to think that it was magic. _I do understand_…Elsa felt a wave of giddy emotion wash through her, making her head feel light. But her joy, that overwhelming sense of _not being alone_, was squashed as doubt caught up. _How? Why – he's from Camelot!_

Merlin took a slow step forward, mistaking her confused and doubtful expression. "I just want to make sure you're okay and you don't get caught. Just so you don't get hurt. I don't think I could stand it if they found out…if they tried to execute you." Merlin's eyes were carefully guarded, flickering away quickly, but his low voice caught on that last sentence, quivering.

Elsa looked to the ground, shaking her head and taking a breath. "Wait – just," Elsa forced out, finding herself short of breath. "…wait. You – I don't understand."

Merlin quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly as a question. Elsa just kept shaking her head, unconsciously wrapping her arms around herself with a frown. Finally, she looked up, meeting his eyes. "Why?"

"Why what?"

Elsa gulped, feeling foolish for a second as she realized just how many times she'd asked that question in the past few minutes. "…you. Camelot. Why are you…just explain." As she uttered this softly, she sank slowly to the ground, suddenly finding herself exhausted.

Merlin raised his eyebrows, looking faintly surprised and maybe a bit uncertain. He took another shuffling step forward, folding his legs as he sat down on the grassy ground, about six feet away from Elsa.

"Well…I don't really know what's there to explain. I mean –" he said after a second, giving a tiny dry laugh. "Of course, there is. I, um…I have magic…"

The way he said it, like a question asking for permission, made Elsa snort with amusement, almost hysterical derision. Merlin's face broke out into a grin, as well, and suddenly they were both laughing out, throwing their heads back. The feeling was infectious, impossible to clamp down on; it seemed incredible that all this happiness was coming from her alone. Elsa felt the tightness in her chest loosen and disappear, with sweet relief flooding her tensed body.

"I think…we've kind of established that," Elsa forced out, pressing her lips tightly together to try and keep her face straight. It didn't work, and she couldn't contain the bright smile that refused to fade. Merlin ducked his head, obviously working to stop himself from grinning, and gave another short laugh.

"Yeah…sorry – okay. Um…I haven't always lived in Camelot," he said, spreading his hands to animate the revelation. "I grew up in Ealdor…it's a village in Cenred's kingdom. It was nice…but as I got older, my magic started causing trouble. People started to notice, so my mother finally sent me to Camelot, to live with Gaius – she thought that maybe he could help me to learn to control my magic. And so…here I am."

Elsa tilted her head, one part of Merlin's narrative sticking firmly in her mind. "So…you were _born_ with magic?"

Merlin blinked, straightening, as if he'd suddenly realized a mistake he'd made. "I – um, well…yes, I was." His blue eyes flickered away self-consciously, and Elsa noted how he automatically began to fiddle with his sleeve. She frowned a little, wondering at his reaction even as she tried to contain hers. _Born with it…just like me._

"That's…" Elsa breathed, shaking her head as an irresistible smile spread across her face again. "That's amazing. That's – I was born with my powers, too."

When Merlin met her eyes with his shining ones, that sparkling wave of euphoria washed through Elsa again, and she felt something tug at her heartstrings.

"Not so different," Merlin said quietly, smiling softly. The words made Elsa smile even more, and she ducked her head quickly.

The silence felt good, and Elsa wouldn't have minded basking in it forever, but the questions buzzing dimly in her mind came first. "So did you?" Elsa asked curiously, her gaze never wavering from his face. "You learned to control your magic?"

Merlin's lips lifted in a wry smile. "What, my 'display' wasn't enough for you?" He was joking, leaning back a little, but his words were like blows to her. Her breath left her in a rush as a belated wave of horror and self-contempt flooded her.

_I could've killed him. _

Elsa looked away, clenching her jaw and letting her eyelids close halfway as she wrestled with her traitorous emotions. "I'm sorry," she said eventually, her words quiet and trembling, and she gulped tremulously. "I – I could've killed you. If you didn't have magic – if you were anyone else –"

"But I wasn't," said Merlin quickly, his expression earnest. "And I _do_ have magic, so don't worry. I'm fine – no harm done."

Elsa shook her head rapidly, taking a breath. "Yes, but that's not the point! Any other time, I wouldn't be so lucky," she cried, biting her lip. "Any other time, someone could get hurt – or worse. I never want that to happen – I _can't_ let it happen."

Elsa swallowed heavily, a spike of helplessness rushing through her, when a strange flicker of pity and caring concern stirred inside her as well. She frowned, confused, even as Merlin shifted towards her, a matching expression on his face – one of pity and caring concern.

"It won't," he promised, shaking his head. "It doesn't have to. You can learn, and get a better control of your magic. It didn't take me long."

Merlin's words made Elsa feel even worse, and her confused emotions were forgotten. "It didn't take you long?" She asked, incredulity and desperation in her voice. "I've had all my life. I still have no more control than when I was a little girl – less, even. I'll never learn."

Merlin's eyebrows pinched together, and he shook his head again, this time backtracking. "No, that's not what I meant – I mean, when I _started_ studying, it didn't take me long. You've never studied – have you?"

Elsa sighed. "No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Not really. But I have spent my entire life trying to contain my magic. It only ever got harder and harder, not easier."

Surprisingly, a hopeful light sparked in Merlin's eyes at her words. "Hmm," said Merlin as he leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. "You know…that might be why."

Elsa shifted in her position, turning sideways so that she wasn't resting squarely on her calves, and puckered her brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well – when I was young and still living in Ealdor with my mother, I got in trouble a lot." He laughed, smiling as if in reminiscence. "Sometimes, I'd get in so much trouble that I'd try to stop using my magic. It only worked for a while – a couple days, at most – before it became impossible for me _not_ to do magic. I remember doing things by magic that I didn't even intend – I would try my hardest not to use magic at all, but the more I did, the less control I had. I eventually realized that _using_ my magic – not too often, maybe, but with purpose and direction – was the best way to get better at controlling it."

He paused, taking a breath, before tilting his head a little, smiling a little smile at Elsa. "It might be the same way for you. Maybe the harder you try to bury your magic, the harder it tries to break free."

Merlin's explanation made sense, Elsa knew, and she reminded herself of that multiple times to justify what she was feeling. But that didn't completely hide the fact that, despite the entirety of Merlin's reasoning, the part that won her over – the part that also made her feel warm and glowy inside – was that just that phrase, practically inconsequential compared to all else that he'd said: _it might be the same way for you._ In her mind, another similarity that tied them together.

She blinked, taking a quick breath that brought her back to the matter at hand. _What's wrong with me?_ "So…you think that trying to not use magic does the opposite?" Elsa clarified, considering it again. "That would make sense…like I said, when I was younger, it was easier to control my powers. But when I was younger, I actually _used_ them. That was before – um, before I started to try and stop." Elsa internally winced at her mistake – she hadn't wanted to mention what happened with Anna all those years ago. Merlin was kind and understanding, yes, but…Elsa couldn't risk that he might turn against her if he learned what she'd done.

Merlin seemed to notice her falter, but he only hesitated a moment before answering. "There you are then," he said conclusively, giving a short nod. "All you need to do it practice."

Elsa raised an eyebrow dubiously, shaking her head. "…_practice_," she sighed, grimacing. "I'm not so sure about _that_."

"Don't worry – I'll help you. You don't have to worry about losing control."

His words made her smile, but didn't erase the doubt. "But I've never done any kind of magic other than playing around with ice. Not like what you did, shielding yourself – I don't think it's the same."

Merlin raised his eyebrows, smiling. "Just because you never used regular magic doesn't mean you can't learn."

Elsa frowned a little, one of Merlin's words stirring confusion in her. "_Regular_…you mean, mine isn't? It's different, I know, but –" Merlin smiled knowingly, opening his mouth to speak, and Elsa fell silent.

"Ah, about that – well, like I said, I followed you down to the dragon's cave," said Merlin, and Elsa listened quietly, not sure how this fit in. "But I waited outside of the tunnels, because I didn't want to eavesdrop. After you left, then I went in to talk to the dragon as well."

"What?" Elsa gasped, feeling panicked even though Merlin was obviously fine. "Why would you do that? It's _dangerous_!" Fleeting memories of that dark cavern and the beast within gave her shivers, and the thought of Merlin facing it – Merlin, so kind and supporting – made her slightly nauseous.

Merlin frowned at her agitated words, leaning forward in concern. "Why do you say that? And that's another thing – I saw how you tried to freeze the dragon. Why'd you do that?" A hard expression crept over his face, giving him a dangerous look. "Did he try to hurt you?"

Elsa blinked, taken aback by Merlin's change, and nodded slowly. "It – he tried to kill me. He breathed fire, and I stopped it – I didn't even think about it; it just happened. Then he was suddenly trapped in the ice, and I ran."

A tense silence fell, and Elsa felt slightly apprehensive as she watched Merlin, who'd lowered his head, working his jaw and emanating an anger that just seemed so uncharacteristic that it startled her. She was about to speak up when he finally muttered something under his breath – "'Resolve the matter', right…" His words were hard, almost venomous, and he shook his head.

"You weren't hurt?" Merlin asked, meeting Elsa's eyes. She was relieved to see that he seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and his voice was full of concern.

"No…I was just shaken, that's all."

Merlin nodded, raising a hand to run it through his hair. "I didn't think that he'd…well, I guess I knew that it had to have been something like that. I just didn't want to believe it." Merlin sighed, suddenly looking sad. "The dragon's helped me a lot in the past, when my friends or Camelot itself was in danger and I didn't know what to do. We've had out differences, but most of the time, he's on my side. Of course…well, that's a story for another time. But I think that I may be the only person who's been in contact with him at all for the past few years – and I just happen to be a person that he's interested in helping. But he doesn't really care about anyone else, and whenever he decides that someone threatens or _may_ threaten his precious destinies, then…he's unpredictable."

Merlin paused, taking a breath, and when he spoke again, Elsa was surprised by the apology and guilt that colored his voice. "I should've realized that…I shouldn't have just sat there waiting for you to come out of the cave. I'm sorry."

Elsa shook her head, only wanting those emotions to end – because, strangely enough, they were affecting her as well. "Don't blame yourself," she urged firmly. "It's not your fault. I should have left right when that dragon started giving off all those mysterious warnings. It's my own fault that I was curious and tried to figure out what he meant."

Merlin said nothing for a moment, obviously still believing that he should have intervened – another surge of warmth passed through Elsa at his concern – before he stirred. "What did he tell you?"

The words were hesitant, deliberately assuring her that she needn't answer. Despite that, Elsa didn't _want_ to refuse to answer. It was a strange feeling, but no less undeniable because of it – Elsa wanted to confide in Merlin. Still, she couldn't help but feel ashamed and embarrassed at what the dragon had said of her. Tentatively, Elsa gave Merlin a summary of what the dragon had said, or rather, _hinted_ at.

"But no matter how dire he made these predictions sound, he refused to tell me exactly _what_ they were. What it is I'm supposed to do, or how or why – it doesn't make sense."

Merlin was already shaking his head, lips pressed tightly together in an anger that she knew wasn't directed at her. "Don't expect it to," he told her, his convincing tone doing its best to reassure her. "The dragon can be helpful and wise and all that, but he's also a hypocrite and more than a little selfish, and he doesn't follow his own advice. I've trusted him about a lot of things, but…I don't believe that he can know everything. I don't know _where_ he gets his information, or how sure he is – he expects blind trust. It's just so _frustrating_ –" Merlin broke off, looking to Elsa as if he had only just realized that he was ranting. Pausing, he seemed to gather his thoughts.

"The thing is, the dragon has said before that, by trying to prevent a certain future, you could end up _causing_ it instead; any interference, really, could be the pebble that starts the avalanche. But, if the dragon thinks that there's a possibility that you could have some kind of evil future or something, then by trying to kill you, he would have been putting the future in jeopardy!" Merlin exclaimed, as if he had made some dire point. However, the words only succeeded in making Elsa even more anxious.

"But – the dragon thought that he would have killed me," said Elsa in growing dismay, eyes wide. "What if his trying and failing to kill me causes that destiny, whatever it is?"

Merlin grimaced, shaking his head. "I don't think that has anything to do with it. The point is, when I went in to talk with the dragon, he practically _ordered_ me not to help you and to stay away. He's done that before – telling me not to help someone – and I haven't ever listened," Merlin admitted, laughing a little. "I've never regretted it. But, by trying to keep me from helping you, the dragon was risking changing the future himself. He thinks that killing you would have been the _safer_ thing…but here I am, and I _am_ going to help you. So, you can learn to control your magic…and that terrible destiny won't come to pass."

Elsa narrowed her eyes, still suspicious. "But what if your coming to try and help me _is_ the thing that will cause that destiny?" The thought made her heart ache, but Elsa couldn't risk ignorance.

Merlin, however, was resolute. "It's not."

Elsa finally drew a deep breath. "But in the end…we don't really know either way."

Merlin smiled wryly. "Not really…so what's the point agonizing over it? You don't want that destiny to happen, do you?"

The question shocked her. "Of _course_ not!"

Merlin's smile widened at her exclamation. "Good. Then it won't happen. If you didn't care either way, _then_ I'd be worried."

Elsa shook her head, not entirely convinced, but she couldn't see a point in agonizing over it, either. "Well…I just hope you're right." She met Merlin's soft smile with one of her own, finding herself staring hypnotically into his eyes. They were very blue, after all; for a moment, neither moved.

Merlin was the one to finally break off their intense staring contest of curiosity, blinking and shaking himself a little, self-conscious. Elsa ducked her head, unable to wipe that stupid smile off her face. _Stop acting like a fool…_but she didn't really want to.

"Um, well anyway – back to what I was saying earlier," said Merlin quickly, as if to disguise his embarrassment. Elsa wondered at that, but didn't have a chance to contemplate it. "About your magic. What the dragon told me – and this time, I do believe him, because it's information that he thinks I'll need to stop all these terrible prophesies – is that you're an elementalist. That's a type of magic-user who's born with powers to control a natural element. It's a different sort of magic that what normal sorcerers have, because that kind of magic can be learned, while elemental magic can't, and also because it's a lot more powerful and instinctual."

Elsa nodded, thirstily absorbing Merlin's words. These were answers to the questions that she'd been asking herself all her life. "An elementalist…" she mused, the word bringing back memory of just a few days ago. With all that had been going on, she hadn't had a chance to think about her conversation with Dezyra, but now she remembered the woman mentioning something similar. "That makes sense…"

Merlin nodded, continuing. "But just because you're an elementalist doesn't mean that you can't learn to use your magic for other things, like healing or levitating objects or unlocking doors – things like that. Being an elementalist gives you more power, so it shouldn't be hard at all for you to learn."

"But how can you be sure?" asked Elsa, unable to help doubting herself. Of course, she'd never felt inclined to try using magic for anything other than manipulating ice, but that didn't mean anything. "If elemental magic is different than normal magic, then what if…I don't know, maybe the connection to magic only lets me use it on ice. Or maybe my magic won't be strong enough on normal magic because it isn't instinctual, like the ice magic…"

Merlin cut her off, shaking his head. "I _am_ sure," he guaranteed her, smiling. "Because…well, I have elemental magic as well."

Elsa only stared for a moment, his words not quite registering in her mind. Doubt flooded her as she thought fleetingly of Dezyra – _meeting two other sorcerers like me in the course of a few days; what are the chances of that?_ – but why would he lie? It wasn't as if he could fake being an elementalist –

Merlin noticed her doubt, and spoke up quickly. "It's not as instinctual as yours, and I've always been able to use magic for little things so using elemental magic never really came up in the past. I didn't even realize that I was one, except that the dragon told me, and there's no reason for him to lie about that…" Merlin trailed off, looking anxious and unsure of how to proceed.

Elsa produced a smile, wanting to dispel his uneasiness. "No, I believe you – it's just…strange." Elsa explained slowly, her gaze drifting away from Merlin's. "All my life, I've lived in isolation – first, because I was a princess, and then because of my powers. I grew to fear and even _hate_ my magic, trying so hard to conceal it and always failing – and now, meeting other people like me…I feel like a hermit suddenly discovering that the rest of the world is populated. It's…it's a good feeling." She smiled tremulously, feeling hot tears at the corners of her eyes, but looked up at Merlin anyway.

Merlin was smiling back at her, his expression so caring and gentle that Elsa wanted nothing more than to move closer to him and revel in the fact that she'd found someone to smile at her like that. After a few seconds, Merlin's gaze flitted around their little clearing quickly, as if in search of something. Taking a breath, he scooted closer to her until he was sitting right beside her. "Look," he said quietly, extending a hand before him, towards the lake. Elsa followed his movements curiously, feeling as if she knew what he was up to.

Merlin closed his eyes, holding his breath – and then, a glow sparked from his palm, and an orange tendril of flame swirled forward, twisting and darting through the air. A glow of fiery sparks trailed behind the streak of flame, marking where it had been, even as the tendril itself split into several arcs, bounding towards the surface of the lake. In seconds, all the paths of flame danced over the water, illuminating the surface and causing fragments of light to brighten the depths of the lake as well. The arcs of light curled, spiraled and soared, bringing the entire forest to life around them; the warm light brightened everything, giving the place a comfortable and welcoming appearance.

Elsa could only stare in wonderment and awe, the light from Merlin's magic flickering across her face. From beside her, Merlin whispered quietly. "You don't have to be afraid of your magic…it doesn't have to be a bad thing."

Elsa turned to look at him, eyes wide. Merlin smiled encouragingly, his eyes drifting back to the enchanting show of lights over the lake.

Elsa gulped, clenching her right hand into a fist. _Can I really…?_

She suddenly realized that she wanted to find out.

Elsa cautiously extended her hand out, apprehension building in her chest as if she were about to leap off a cliff. When that familiar cold feeling rose up in her, though, everything else was forgotten.

The arc of icy blue light that flew from Elsa's palm was faster than Merlin's fire, more decisive but also more erratic; it bounded forward in smooth leaps, bouncing over the smooth lake and branching out whenever it touched the surface. When the ice reached the place where the fire was drifting aimlessly, both streams of energy seemed to halt for a split-second, as if considering one another. They slowly approached, curiously spiraling around each other, before one trail of fire suddenly darted forwards, intercepting one of the soft paths of ice. Both trails spun around one another, racing upwards towards the dark sky; finally they exploded with blue and orange light, with circular beams of light extending out in frenzied motion.

Merlin laughed, seeming just as surprised by the actions of the light as Elsa was. She let out a burst of a laugh as well, amazed at what they'd created. _Magic_…the thought rang with awe. Even as they watched, however, one of Elsa's beams of ice-light swayed lazily through the open air before diving down, slamming into the surface of the lake with a splash of blue light; immediately, sparkling ice took the place of the water, racing to the edges of the lake. Elsa gasped, shocked, but Merlin only laughed again, this time in astonishment.

As if egged on by the ice's bold move, a few trails of fire raced low along the icy surface of the frozen lake, growing in intensity until pathways of steaming water were left behind. Ghostlike imprints of the bright display were left on Elsa's vision, but she refused to blink.

"It's…" Elsa breathed, trying to find the right words. "…it's beautiful."

She looked away then, seeking out Merlin's bright blue eyes. He nodded, smiling at the display over the lake and at her. Without thinking, Elsa's hand found Merlin's, and they intertwined their fingers together, squeezing reassuringly. The glow in Elsa's chest was brighter than ever before, and she let that stupid smile spread ridiculously across her face, showing her joy in that moment. There was no point trying to conceal it, Elsa reasoned happily, but she didn't really care either way, because Merlin was wearing one as well.

* * *

**Wow! An entire chapter devoted entirely to a single conversation, how's that for you? I'm sorry if this is going too slowly for you, but I'm into details and I promise, things are about to get a lot more intense action-wise. And also…yes, that whole thing with the fire-and-ice-over-the-lake was the inspiratory scene for this entire fic.**

**Anyway, hope you liked this and please review! I'll try and update next week sometime, though there's a chance it'll be late (again). I'll try my hardest! Thanks for reading and have a good day!**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	16. Three's a Crowd

**Hi…and I'm really sorry about the long wait for this chapter. It's been like three weeks since my last update, and I'm really sorry – life has been annoyingly busy. I've been trying my hardest, though, I promise! It's just hard to get a lot of time in to type. **

**But anyway, thank you **_**so much**_** to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, following, and favorite-ing this story – I love you all! Thanks for all the encouragement and praise – I really appreciate it. =) **

**Chapter Sixteen: Three's a Crowd**

Elsa didn't know how long it was that they sat there, fingers intertwined casually as they watched the magical lights dance over the water. When the blue and orange illuminations finally began to dissipate, drifting their separate ways into the surrounding forest, they sat still for a few moments, allowing the dark of the early-morning sky to drape itself over them.

When Merlin finally _did_ speak, his words seemed strangely out of the blue, disturbing the complete sense of calm peace that had fallen over the clearing. "So…what now?"

Elsa turned to study him, frowning a little as she considered the question. _What now… _She pulled her hand gently out of Merlin's loose grip, instead clasping her hands together under her chin as she considered the question. It could have a million different meanings, but what it meant for _her_ was the most concerning at the moment. What was _she_ going to do?

Some of her dismay must have shown on her face, because Merlin grimaced guiltily. "Sorry – I didn't mean to…"

"No – don't be sorry. It…it's not going anywhere, that question." Elsa sighed, running a hand through her hair. "What _am_ I going to do?"

"Well…what was the original plan? Before I showed up, I mean."

Elsa stared into Merlin's helpful eyes, finding it nearly impossible to think back to before he showed up. The _original_ plan? _That_ could go out the window, Elsa thought haphazardly, and she was about to say as much when a subtle motion from somewhere behind Merlin caught her eye. She sat up straight, heart pounding, before the image could even register – but then, it did, and a rush of confusing familiarity overcame her as she shot to her feet.

"_Dezyra_?"

* * *

Over time, Merlin had come to realize that he had a very good knack for reading people. Upon first meeting someone, he'd immediately find himself fostering the makings of a vague but unmistakable idea of what that person was like; it usually only took a few minutes before he'd come up with a distinct like or _dislike_ for said person. An example of such a time could be when he first encountered Elsa, only a few days ago, and how he'd immediately been drawn to her – despite the fact that they hadn't even spoken yet, he _knew_ that she was a good person.

The opposite was true when Merlin first laid eyes of Dezyra.

Perhaps it was the deep sense of calm that her mere presence brought – a feeling of almost sleepy compliance, as if all was right with the world, and why would you wonder otherwise anyway? Merlin could feel the desired affect tugging at him, as if willing him to succumb to that subtle urge, but that only made Merlin even more wary. Despite Dezyra's calming aura, she herself wore an expression of urgency and worry, with a frown marring her elegant, attractive features. Still, her eyes were clear and knowing, and as Elsa leapt to her feet and ran to the other woman, Dezyra's deep brown gaze latched onto Merlin for a second. Pinned under that stare, Merlin felt strangely unexposed and vulnerable – but then Dezyra looked back to Elsa, a graceful smile easing her stern features. Merlin rose slowly to his feet, unable to slow his pounding heartbeat.

Meanwhile, Elsa had rushed to embrace Dezyra warmly. The other woman returned the greeting briefly before pulling back, holding Elsa's hands in hers as she looked her over. "Elsa," the taller woman said, relief suffusing her voice as she tilted her head in emotion, her chocolate hair flowing over one shoulder. "I was so _worried_ about you."

Elsa wore a dazzling smile, laughing a little in amazement and relief. "I was worried about _you_! When I woke up – I didn't know where I was, and I was _going_ to wait for you, but then I was attacked and – how did you find me? And what _happened_?"

Dezyra laughed, an infectious sound. "So many questions! Well," she broke off, smiling wryly. "I suppose I _did_ promise you answers."

Elsa opened her mouth, about to reply, before she started suddenly, taking a step back. "Oh! Um – well –" Elsa let go of one of Dezyra's hands as she turned towards Merlin, smiling happily as she met his eyes. Emerging from underneath his wariness, a flicker of annoyance stirred as Elsa gaily introduced Merlin and Dezyra to each other, seeming to brim with happiness and satisfaction.

Despite Dezyra's kind, warm smile, Merlin could not help but feel that there was something _more_ to her...something carefully hidden and waiting to show itself. He gave her a short nod, keeping his face impassive, as Elsa watched them interact with bright smile. Merlin met Elsa's eyes quickly, asking a silent question – but Elsa only smiled a little wider, as if to assure him that all was well.

Dezyra, however, took notice of Merlin's hesitance, it seemed, because she opened her mouth to speak, raising her dark eyebrows. "Ah – Elsa, I take it you didn't mention me to your friend?"

Elsa shook her head, looking a little abashed. "We've had a lot to talk about," she said consolingly, but Dezyra didn't seem to even think of taking offense.

"Of course. Well, Merlin – Elsa and I met in the woods several miles from the city of Arendelle, and we realized that we had a lot more in common than I'd ever guess – that we're both elementalists. We talked for a while, but then I realized that Elsa's pursuers were closing in on my campsite. So, before they could find her, I used magic to transport her away from there…which is how, I suppose, that you, Elsa, ended up here." Dezyra said this all with an air of great sympathy and modesty, and as she concluded her speech, she turned to Elsa, a tiny frown marring her features once more.

Merlin frowned as well, studying Dezyra intently. "So – you're an elementalist as well?" _Sorceress, I could believe, but…two elementalist sorceresses in less than a week? _Merlin shook off the thought as soon as it crossed his mind – it seemed unmeasurably _wrong_ to put Elsa and Dezyra into any similar category.

Dezyra smiled slowly, raising her brows knowingly. "Indeed – as, I am led to believe, are you."

The calm, eloquent words sent a chill through Merlin. His eyes flickered for a split-second to the few magical lights still drifting aimlessly above the lake, as unmistakable a sign as any. In an instant, a sense of blinding clarity electrified Merlin as he realized, as if from a distance, that not one, but _two other people_ had discovered his magic tonight. Two other sorceresses, and rather significant ones at that. _What am I doing? What would _Gaius_ say? _That particular thought sent a jolt of guilt through him.

_Too far, way too far – what am I _doing_? _Merlin gulped, breaking his gaze away from Dezyra's almost hypnotizing stare with a panicked breath – ducking his head, he found his eyes fixated on the ground as he struggled for something to say.

The silence stretched, and still Merlin couldn't speak. Finally – "It's all right," Dezyra said softly, her voice understanding and comforting. "We're all the same here. We've all suffered because of who we are…"

Merlin nodded slightly, still averting his eyes. "Sorry – um, it's just…habit, I guess." Everything Dezyra said made him want to believe her. But then there was that _feeling_…and it never went well if Merlin didn't trust a _feeling_ of his, did it?

Dezyra smiled consolingly, her serene gaze lingering on Merlin for a moment, before Elsa took half a step forward, about to ask Dezyra a question…and Merlin was left standing there, with the vaguely catatonic feeling very much similar to that of one being caught with one hand in a cookie jar.

"So – what happened?" Elsa asked quickly, the eagerness and curiosity plain in her voice. "Back there, after you sent me away…"

Dezyra grimaced slightly, seeming reluctant, but she gave Elsa a slow answer. "Well…first of all, I didn't _mean_ to send you all the way here. My spell went wrong – because those people who were chasing you found me just as soon as you'd disappeared. They thought that I'd been doing magic, though, and…" Dezyra trailed off carefully, as if she was trying to conceal the significance of her words. Merlin felt a twinge of sympathy and guilt begin to soften the hard knot of suspicion that had made its home inside – but those were Elsa's feelings, weren't they? Dezyra's words were so convincing that it made him want to cover his ears, except that he was curious to know what had happened, as well…

Elsa's frown had grown increasingly concerned as Dezyra spoke, and now she opened her mouth warily, brows clenched over her forehead. "What happened?"

"They – well," Dezyra began hesitantly, sounding as if she were trying to water down the weight of the words she was about to say – or perhaps play it up? Merlin couldn't decide which perspective of Dezyra he should believe. "They were desperate to find you – and angry, I suppose at having lost you…they didn't understand, and they refused to listen to me. And since they suspected me of being a sorceress – of course that made them hate me even more…" She ducked her head slightly, her glossy hair rippling forward, and for the first time Merlin noticed a partially-healed cut on her lip, and displayed across her left jaw, the faded remnants of a bruise.

Elsa gasped in horror as she, too, noticed Dezyra's wounds for the first time. "They – oh! I'm so sorry – if only I hadn't –" Elsa broke off, a horrified frown on her face. "I'm _sorry_."

Dezyra shook her head rapidly, reaching out to grasp Elsa's hand tightly. "It's not your fault," She said firmly. "People like them – they're not _like_ us. They never will be, and there's no escaping that. You told me yourself that you were running away because of them…because you always had to hide, and because they'd never accept you if they knew who you _really_ were. It's the same for me – for anyone like us." Dezyra's intense gaze flickered to Merlin for a second before latching back onto Elsa's face – the subtle inclusion that Dezyra gave Merlin made him feel even more _ex_cluded. His thoughts flashed back to just a few minutes before, when he and Elsa were enjoying the beautiful display that they'd created with their magic, and another twinge of annoyance towards Dezyra made him frown.

Elsa's lip quivered, her face almost tearful. "But – but you didn't do anything wrong! How could they…" She lowered her head. "I always hoped that maybe they wouldn't mind that much if they ever found out about my magic…but I guess I was wrong. I was right in leaving."

Merlin watched Elsa closely, heart sinking, as she came to that conclusion. _I guess I was wrong…_It was a familiar problem, of course; Merlin wondered and worried the same thing every day. But – it was also how countless magic-users had gone from benign to destructively malevolent. For Elsa to decide that non-magical people were out to get her would definitely put a crimp in Merlin's plan of helping her…but suddenly, Merlin's eyes flickered away from Elsa as if on their own, fixating themselves on Dezyra. Because…perhaps her tone was pained and forgiving and earnest, but there was nothing like that in her expression. Elsa had her head bowed, pressing her lips together, eyes closed – and Dezyra watched for the effect that her words had on the princess with a hungry, satisfied gleam that was _almost_ concealed in her eyes. A tiny twist of her lips, not enough to call a sneer on its own…a line to her shoulders and back that wasn't really one of relief and pain, but more confident and purposeful…

Tiny, subtle signs, really; almost not enough to actually mean anything. But.

Meanwhile, Merlin's magic was telling him more insistently than ever that this wasn't good, somehow, and that Dezyra definitely wasn't good like Elsa was good. It was like an itch, a vague tingling feeling, but unmistakable, and impossible to ignore, so why was he trying to?

A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over Merlin, almost enough to make him lose his balance – he shut his eyes, swallowing heavily, as he heard the compelling sound of Dezyra's voice, speaking intently to Elsa as if from a great distance. And then it clicked. _Compelling_. Oh.

Powerful sorceress. Powerful _elementalist_. Words that made you want to believe them. Telling another powerful elementalist that all non-magical people were evil, or didn't understand, or something – anything, to turn her against them – just another try and turning someone's innocence into hatred. Not someone's. Elsa's.

And why was Merlin there? To help her?

The anger was a little surprising, actually, because Merlin didn't usually get angry easily – maybe it was the fact that it looked very much like Dezyra's plan was already working. _I want to help you_. Merlin scowled as he stepped forward, turning so that he stood beside Elsa, facing Dezyra.

"How did you know we were here?" Merlin asked suddenly, finding it the first question that came to mind. Both Dezyra and Elsa looked to him, startled; Elsa curious and a little wary at Merlin's hard tone, and Dezyra suspicious and guarded. Still, the dark-haired sorceress smiled, conceding.

"I sensed the magic that you and Elsa were performing," Dezyra answered, inserting a note of curiosity into her voice. "You are both fairly powerful, you know."

Merlin nodded as if in enlightenment, opening his mouth slightly in the shape of an 'o'. "Ah…but then, how did you know we were _here_? In Camelot? I mean," he said slowly, ponderingly. He needed to find a real reason to oppose Dezyra, not just a hunch. "Surely you couldn't have sensed that all the way from Arendelle? I don't think _anyone's_ that powerful."

Dezyra gave a quiet, lilting laugh of amusement, as if the thought of someone so powerful as that was somehow funny. "No – of course not," she assured, smiling brightly. _Too bright_, Merlin thought. "I knew that Elsa was in Camelot – all I had to do was follow my spell that sent her here. It's not hard."

"Right." Merlin nodded, eyes narrowed. "So…why did you send her to Camelot?"

Dezyra still looked as confident as ever. "I'm sorry?"

"_Why_ did you send her to Camelot?" Merlin asked firmly, eyebrows raised. "Why did you send her – someone you knew to have magic, to be an _elementalist_ – to Camelot, a kingdom well known for having outlawed magic and executing anyone found to do it? Didn't you think that sending her here might have been a bit dangerous – especially since she can't control her magic?" He couldn't help the accusatory tone that was taking over his voice – this was a valid argument, but not perfect, because it didn't really make sense to Merlin in the first place. If Dezyra wanted to use Elsa to her own ends – _why_ would she have sent her somewhere that she could have been killed?

Elsa was frowning at Merlin, unsure of herself. "Merlin – she tried to help me, it wasn't her fault –" She reached towards Merlin, touching him gently on his shoulder, but Merlin shook his head, watching Dezyra.

The sorceress in question frowned, opening her mouth hesitantly, as if taken aback and defensive – and just a shade guilty. "I – I told you, I didn't mean to send her to Camelot – it was an accident, my spell went wrong when those people attacked me. It wasn't my fault."

"That spell sure went a long way wrong, didn't it," Merlin said tilting his head. "Where were you originally planning to send her, then? Because…if it went wrong, then the intended destination was probably somewhere around here, right? Not all the way north in Arendelle. A transportation spell couldn't go _that_ wrong."

Dezyra frowned, getting a little angry – defensive, and decisively so. "I haven't done anything wrong," she pointed out loudly, accusingly. "Why are you acting like this is my _interrogation_? What does it _matter_? It was an accident. I was trying to help."

Merlin shook his head slowly. "I don't think you were."

Dezyra drew herself up, scowling – and that calm that surrounded her suddenly twisted out of shape, like a fire leaping from a simple cookfire to a forest blaze; it shattered, morphing into something angry and vengeful. She scoffed of disbelief – _you dare question me?_ "I don't understand you, Merlin," Dezyra said slowly, every syllable deliberate. "What do you have against me? I'm only trying to help Elsa, as I thought you were. What's the point of us squabbling over nonsensical details?" She narrowed her eyes suddenly, brow furrowed. "If you're going to start asking why I sent Elsa to Camelot, then – why are _you_ here? In Camelot? You have magic; it's just as dangerous for you."

"My magic is a _secret_," Merlin stressed, feeling as if this conversation was about to get turned around any moment now – it definitely wasn't a good feeling. Elsa, meanwhile, was watching both Merlin and Dezyra intently, looking decidedly unsure of which person to side with. "No one knows about it, and Camelot is my home. I'm not in danger there, because I wouldn't get caught."

Dezyra tilted her head, her hair falling over her shoulder in a shiny wave. "Oh, _I_ see. So a fairly competent sorcerer just decides to live quietly in the city of Camelot, right under the nose of the king who _kills_ people with magic. What do you do whenever he holds an _execution_? Stand and watch with all the others?" She gave him a look of disgust, wrinkling her nose. "I would never be able to _live_ with myself."

Merlin swallowed hard, clenching his jaw – there was a faint rushing in his ears, but he just squared his shoulders, because he wasn't going to let her get to him. There were more important things than that, than his _pride_ – _but that is what you do; you _have_ to stand watch_. "It's not that simple," Merlin said quietly, looking away, trying to steel his tone but his voice still shook a bit. "I don't just – I am trying to change things, but the _peaceful_ way. Uther won't be king forever, and then –"

Dezyra scoffed incredulously, eyes wide. "And _then_? And then _what_? Then _Arthur_," Dezyra drawled, stretching out the name in exaggeration. "_Arthur_, the Uther's little mirror image, will be king and will rule the same way that his father does – as a cruel, biased, and arrogant tyrant."

The words were enough to set Merlin's already steamy temper to boiling. What did _she_ know – the insult was like a slap in the face to Merlin. "Arthur _isn't like_ his father," Merlin retorted through his teeth. "You don't – you don't even _know_ him."

"Oh? And you do?"

"Yes, in fact," said Merlin in a staccato beat, a scowl fixed firmly on his face. Deep, deep down there was a little voice shouting at him that this wasn't a good idea – why are you arguing about something so stupid – but it was far too remote for him to listen to. "I _work_ for Arthur. I'm his _friend_. And I use my magic to _protect_ him, because one day _he_ will be king and _he'll_ be the king to lift the ban of magic from Camelot."

A stunned silence met his words – Merlin felt Elsa's startled presence standing mutely beside him – but he didn't turn, instead resolutely staring Dezyra down. Her eyes were wider than ever, her mouth making a little 'o', and for once, the reaction seemed genuine.

Finally – "But then…" Dezyra spoke in a tiny whisper, before she took a deep, shaky breath, blinking. "But then you must be – but you can't be – but…" In an instant of belated realization, Dezyra forced her face into a blank slate, hiding her true emotions – but Merlin had already seen the dawning recognition in her eyes, and then the flash of racing calculation – a decision, but what did she decide? Her deep, confident calm was back, Merlin realized, and with it, a flicker of apprehension – except that _that_ feeling was purely his own.

Elsa shifted, leaves crackling under her feet. "What's going on…" She sounded so lost and unsure – _again_ – that a pang shot through Merlin, along with the nearly irresistible urge to hug her, keep her safe – but that's what he was doing, because there was something about Dezyra and he had to stop whatever she was trying to do – for some reason, Merlin felt the need to repeat this to himself in his head. _Compelling_. That's her. Confusion, misunderstandings and mistakes – and _compelling_.

Merlin shook himself, trying to force the thoughts out of his head – _what is she doing?_ – as Dezyra took another deep breath, staring at Merlin intently, her jaw clenched.

"So it's you," Dezyra said quietly, her eyes never leaving Merlin's face. "The Pendragon's pet sorcerer…"

Merlin was getting the strangest feeling that he wasn't going to like her next words.

"…Emrys."

Dezyra's dark eyes glittered with something like malice, and Merlin felt a sinking feeling weighing down any hopes he might have had. _Emrys_. The word was like taboo – it automatically made him defensive and closed-off, as if a well-kept secret of his was suddenly well-known… "How do you know that name?" Merlin asked quietly, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, I've been around, heard a few things," replied Dezyra lightly, though her eyes were still narrowed – concentration? Anger? Merlin couldn't tell, because he was still concentrating himself on trying to keep his thoughts clear of confusion. "And of course, the druids have their little rumors…because that's all they are, aren't they? '_Change things'_, you say? You're nothing more than a _coward_."

Dezyra spit out those last few words, and then – a wave of anger hit Merlin like a blow to the gut; he felt his blood boil with irritation, frustration, and resentment. For a moment, it was unintelligible, like the first few seconds before a blinding pain overwhelms you – and then, he only had a split-second to feel panicked before another onslaught caught him – an onslaught of blinding, uncontrollable fury. Only a few impressions of thought remained in his mind – _what does she know? Everything I'm done – a coward?_ – but they vanished with the blaze of rage.

"You have _no_ _idea_ – don't you _dare_ say that." Merlin distantly realized that his voice was raised – he was shouting, scowling furiously – _what am I doing_? "I've spent years having to hide and pretend and _lie_, and there's _no way_ that's going to be for nothing!" Dezyra's eyes widened, Merlin saw as he took a step forward – _good. Let her be shocked_ – the thought ran through his mind as if it were his own, but his mind felt strangely, distantly alien; everything was blurred by the anger, and he couldn't slow it down enough to try and tell why. Dezyra's lips began to twitch upwards into a tiny smile of satisfaction – and that wasn't good, was it? He knew, vaguely, that he'd normally be suspicious – but then, the anger swung back again, and he didn't care.

"If you think I'm doing such a terrible job trying to make a difference – then what are _you_ doing about it?" His voice – though so different, so angry that it couldn't be his – lashed out sharply, ringing in his ears. "What are _you_ going to do to bring back magic? Kill Uther? And when he's dead – what then? Take the throne? As if that'll bring peace? It's you and people like you who are only making things worse – if only you'd try making them see that magic can be used for good, but _no_, you need to get your _revenge_. As if that's going to change anything –"

Dezyra cut him off, opting a similar expression to his. "_As if that'll change anything_? Do you have any idea how many people have _died_, while people like _you_ just sit and watch? Or does that not matter?"

It only made Merlin seethe even more, heart pounding in ire…or something like alarm, hidden deep beneath the rage that wasn't his – _couldn't_ be his? But each surge of anger caused his every thought to disintegrate – "Of course it _matters_ – that's the entire _point_! Because it'll never _stop_, not unless someone actually puts some real _effort_ into changing people's views, instead of just mindlessly _killing_ them!"

Suddenly Elsa appeared in front of Merlin, palms extended in a pacifying way – the anger subsided abruptly, leaving Merlin strangely dizzy. "_Stop_ it! _Both_ of you!" She stood between Dezyra and Merlin, looking back and forth at the two with bright, beautiful blue fire in her eyes. "What is wrong with you? How is arguing about this, whatever _this_ is, going to change anything? There's no need for…"

Elsa's mouth was still moving as she spoke irritably, skewering both Merlin and Dezyra with a commanding glare – but Merlin couldn't hear it, couldn't hear anything but the rushing in his ears. The sight of Elsa, cutting off their argument like a stunning, righteous peace-keeper – the image of her blazing eyes and swirling blond hair had made all that anger drain away. _All that anger _– what _was_ that?

Dezyra was talking to Elsa now, face earnest – making some excuse? Merlin tried to catch his breath, blinking heavily, but his entire body felt chillingly weak from that unexplainable fury. Distantly, he saw Elsa turn towards him, her lips curving to form a question – and behind her, Dezyra stood, brow furrowed, a look of intense concentration on her face.

There wasn't enough time for alarm, before everything was swept away again –

"Just get out of here!" His voice again, and that wrath – heat rushed to his face, burning everything else away. "Whatever you're trying to do – just _go_!"

Elsa stumbled back in shock, eyes wide – and Dezyra did too, but she was smiling fractionally – but Merlin was seeing red, and his hand lifted as if on its own, threateningly – a tiny, inaudible voice was warning him that _no, this isn't a good idea, this isn't you, what are you doing?_ but Dezyra was still smiling, Elsa crying out –

A blaze of burning light lit up the clearing as a jet of fire raced from Merlin's outstretched palm, making its way to Dezyra with a speed almost too quick for the eye to catch – but Dezyra's eyes did catch it, apparently, because she darted back just in time, raising her hand to deflect the projectile. Then – Merlin still couldn't hear anything properly, above the roaring that was filling his ears, making everything seem unreal – Dezyra looked up at Merlin in shock, her eyes wide with some unintelligible emotion, mouth set, and for a second there was a pulsing, echoing silence. Finally she stirred, glancing to Elsa for a split-second – Dezyra made a quick gesture, mouthing an unheard phrase, and then she vanished with a gust of wind.

_What did I…?_

Merlin distantly realized that he'd fallen to his knees, one hand out to brace himself against the unexpected pull of gravity. His head pounded, his body shook uncontrollably – and an unending wave of dizziness refused to abate. Groaning, he let himself slide to the ground in slow-motion, feeling like curling into a ball.

"Merlin?" Elsa's voice – apprehensive, but concerned. After a moment, Merlin felt a careful hand touch his shoulder and he realized he hadn't replied, but then couldn't bring himself to care.

"Merlin? What's wrong? What – why did you…" She seemed at a loss for words.

After a moment, Merlin tried to push himself back up again, because her voice – it sounded so confused and lost once again, and it was something he almost couldn't stand. _But what about Dezyra_ – the thought of what had happened, what he had done and what he hadn't done, made him nauseas. With painstaking slowness, Merlin pushed himself back onto his knees, feeling disturbingly lightheaded.

Elsa was crouched in front of him, but at a distance – a few untrusting feet separated him, and in her eyes was not only worry and concern but also suspicion and wariness that sent a pang through Merlin. "Are you alright?" She asked hesitantly, and Merlin nodded slightly, though his wince of unease probably didn't make his answer very convincing. "Why did…what _happened_?"

Merlin sighed. "I don't know," he muttered, voice slightly raw. "But – whatever that was, it wasn't me."

**Thanks for reading and I hope you liked! Sorry if this chapter was a bit off, but that's what you get for typing on and off in about five minute sessions over the course of three weeks. Anyway, I'm really hoping I can update later this week, though no promises. Whenever I do update, I hope you'll bear with me and not get too impatient. Also – sorry to everyone who really wants Merlin and Elsa to just kiss already! Sorry, but relationships come **_**after **_**the battle for the world and everything, lol. Again, thanks for reading and please review! Have a nice day! =)**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	17. The Stain of Betrayal

**Hey! Finally! Firstly, I'm so sorry for leaving you there for so long – I know, I know, I suck at this whole 'updating on time' thing. I'm sorry! Unfortunately my summer schedule is getting in the way of writing time. ****_However_**** \- there is a light at the end of this dark tunnel of me not updating! Because it's already ****_August_****, and I get to start school towards the end of the month. That's wonderful news to you guys, because that means I'll start writing a lot more. Remember those days long ago, when I updated every Tuesday? Yeah, we'll probably go back to that. So cheer up! Almost there.**

**Anyway, here is the long awaited chapter. And also, ahead of time – I'm sorry. Again. *evil laughter***

**Chapter Seventeen: The Stain of Betrayal**

"So…you think that Dezyra can control minds," Elsa clarified hesitantly as she stared at Merlin, who was sitting in front of her on the grassy ground, still slightly hunched over.

Merlin sighed, shaking his head with a little, almost undetected wince. "No," he said, looking at Elsa with those earnest eyes of his – they made her want to agree, to forget what had just happened. "She – I don't know, she was somehow controlling my _emotions_…to make me angry. I don't – I didn't know that someone could even do that, but…"

Elsa didn't reply, instead simply sitting there in a crouch, watching Merlin intently as he fell silent, still looking uncomfortable and a bit ill. Right now, in this calm…Elsa couldn't really believe that he'd attacked Dezyra, just a few moments ago. He had, though, and in those moments while Merlin had shouted angrily, face twisted into a scowl, Elsa had felt as if the ground had dropped away from underneath her feet all over again. Everything had seemed so perfect – sitting with Merlin on the lakeside, watching the magic that they'd done come alive, had given her such a wonderful, rosy feeling; everything, or at least _almost_ everything, had been perfect. The only problems that still lingered had been the situation with Elsa's magic, as well as the fact that they were in _Camelot_, and of course Elsa had still been worrying about Dezyra…somehow, though, just being there with Merlin made all that fade.

Perhaps Elsa had thought, during those golden moments, that everything was perfect. But then Dezyra had appeared, and that was when things _really_ seemed to fall into place. Both of them – both Dezyra and Merlin – had been amazing, completely unforeseen silver linings in the past few days of fear and insecurity. And when Dezyra showed up, it was like a reassurance to Elsa – _everything will work out, everything will be okay_. Both Merlin and Dezyra were like her, and knew exactly what she'd gone through, all her life – for all three of them to come together like that had to be some sort of fate, didn't it? The idea of somewhere where she could actually, truly fit in had been almost intoxicating.

But then – everything had turned upside down so quickly. First Merlin was just asking Dezyra strange questions, giving her a hard glare, and then, suddenly, they were both shouting – and now this. Elsa couldn't process it.

"Do you even believe me?" Merlin's voice was quiet, and his eyes held regret and pain – Elsa swallowed, unable to formulate a response. _I want to believe. I don't want to believe._

"I don't know," sighed Elsa, shaking her head – trying her hardest to ignore Merlin's little, badly concealed wince. Who was she supposed to believe – who was she supposed to side with? _How can I judge Dezyra based only on what he says? _"I don't know. How could that be? And how would you even know that she was controlling you? How could you _tell_?"

Merlin drew a deep breath, shaking his head slowly. "I don't know how she could be doing it…maybe it's part of her elemental powers. As for how I knew – well, at first I didn't. I thought I was just getting angry because of what Dezyra said. But then…when I started shouting, I knew that something was wrong, because I _never_ get angry like that. Not on the outside. But, even though I knew that there was something off about how I was getting angry, I couldn't stop it, and I couldn't figure out where all that rage was coming from – and then, I couldn't even think. It was out of control." Merlin's voice was completely sincere, if a little confused, and his eyes were trained on hers, watching anxiously for her reaction.

_Why is it so hard to distrust him? _Elsa couldn't even figure out if that was a bad thing. She didn't _want_ to distrust Merlin, but trusting him meant distrusting Dezyra. And she didn't want to distrust Dezyra. "That – that doesn't necessarily mean Dezyra was doing it…" Elsa trailed off, sounding unconvinced even to herself.

"That's not all," said Merlin quickly. "I'm sure you've felt it too…as soon as Dezyra showed up. There's this…this _calm_ feeling, just surrounding her. I mean, at first I thought that it wasn't anything – I wasn't even suspicious, but after this…it's strange. Haven't you felt it?"

"Well…" Elsa started, frowning – because she _had_. There was no denying that. Every time Elsa met Dezyra, she'd felt that deep, soothing _calm_, and she'd relished in it. She'd thought it was just Dezyra's personality or something – well, she actually hadn't even thought about it. She'd only appreciated it. Now, though – "You're right," Elsa agreed quietly. "Each time I was near her – there was that feeling of calmness…making you want to agree. I never really thought it was anything, I guess. Still – that's not really a bad thing, is it? Just…strange."

"Maybe it's not bad all the time," said Merlin, his voice soft and convincingly. "But she _does_ use it to make you want to agree with whatever she's saying. And I think that there might be even more that we didn't even notice – things so subtle that you would never even be able to tell that it's her and not your own emotions…"

The idea sent a chill through Elsa, surprising her. If that was true, then there would be no way to resist – that sort of power frightened Elsa beyond words. But – _Dezyra is so kind, and she's helped me. Why would she do something like that_…? "Why, though?" asked Elsa abruptly, voicing the thought. "Why would she do something like that? She's been helping me – she was _attacked_ trying to help me escape! What would be the point?"

Merlin didn't say anything for a long moment, just watching her. "I don't know," he said finally, looking away. "I'm just afraid – I don't think that we should trust her."

Elsa stared at Merlin, who was still looking away, a frown on his face. _How do I know that I can trust you?_ She couldn't stop the thought, despite how much she wanted to – this whole line of thought was turning her world into one of shadows, one where she couldn't be sure what was solid ground and what was just empty space. If Dezyra could control thoughts and emotions – then what was to say that Merlin couldn't? What made Merlin good and Dezyra bad? If Dezyra were here in Merlin's place, would she be saying exactly the same thing about Merlin?

_I don't know what to believe. _

Elsa sighed. "Well then…what? What now?" _How do we make this mess into something manageable?_

Merlin slowly pushed himself to his feet, grimacing in discomfort. "I think…" began Merlin, watching Elsa with a slightly anxious look. "I think that maybe we should go back to Camelot."

"_What_?"

"Look, I know how you –" Merlin started, his tone consoling, but Elsa cut him off, frowning in disbelief.

"_Camelot_? Weren't you even listening to anything I said, before Dezyra came?" Elsa was incredulous, watching Merlin's apologetic – but resolute – expression. "I can't go back to Camelot. I _can't_, I'll lose control, I'll be caught – why would you even want to go back there?"

"Because I don't know what else to do," said Merlin loudly, bluntly – he spread his hands in emphasis, eyebrows raised. "If Dezyra is trying to…do something, if she has some kind of plans for you – I don't know how to protect you. There's nowhere else. Besides – I'll help you learn to control your magic, so you won't lose control. You won't be caught – nobody there has any reason to suspect you."

Elsa could have laughed, if only Merlin wasn't so serious when he spoke. "_Nowhere else_? So the only place where you can 'protect' me is _Camelot_?" Elsa shook her head slowly, letting out a huff of breath in disbelief. A sudden thought occurred to her – one that she would normally ignore, but this argument didn't allow it. "All that you said to Dezyra about Camelot, when you were angry – that _was_ true, wasn't it? You use your magic to protect Prince Arthur, or something?" Suspicion was something that she didn't want in her voice right then, but she couldn't hold it back – it was a defense mechanism, turning the conversation around.

Merlin tilted his head back in exasperation, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yes, it was true, but that's not the _point_," said Merlin, voice quiet. After a second he sighed, shaking his head. "Arthur isn't like his father – he's not cruel or unforgiving like Uther, already, and I know that his opinion of magic can change. It _will_ change, one day, and then he'll be king – and everyone can be free, without any more bloodshed. Then this land can be at peace."

The conviction in Merlin's voice startled Elsa into temporary silence – Merlin was completely sure in what he was saying, without a doubt. _He truly believes that_. "Right," said Elsa hesitantly, finding herself unable to argue. "Okay. Then – what about that thing Dezyra called you…Emrys, wasn't it? What does that mean?"

Merlin gave her a skeptical look, eyebrows raised. "It's just a name that some people call me," said Merlin tersely. "And it doesn't matter – it's got nothing to do with anything."

"Really. That's not what it seemed like, when you and Dezyra were talking." It was obvious that Merlin was defensive about this – that name, Emrys. Elsa latched onto it unthinkingly.

"That's because she's trying to –" Merlin broke off from his agitated start, shaking his head. "Look, it _doesn't matter_. Can we just – can you please just trust me? Just until everything's under control?"

Merlin's eyes bored into hers, wide and hopeful – how could she refuse that? It hurt her heart to even consider saying no – _and what would I do, even if I did say no? Where would I go?_ Dezyra was gone, and there was no way to know when she was coming back, _if_ she was coming back. And the thought of walking away alone made Elsa feel small and empty – _I'm done being alone_. There didn't seem to be any right thing to do in this situation – every option left a bad feeling in her stomach.

Even if she didn't want to trust Merlin, there wasn't really an alternative. But…she really _did_ want to trust him. Even after what had happened with Dezyra, looking into Merlin's eyes made her feel warm and light inside – it was a feeling she didn't want to lose. "Okay," sighed Elsa, trying on a small smile. "You win. Back to Camelot it is…"

Merlin sighed in relief, shoulders dropping down out of their tensed state. He rose from the ground in one fluid motion, still seeming a bit hunched over – and still taller than her. He smiled slightly, nodding. "Thank you."

Elsa shook her head fractionally, shaking off the thanks – as well as the lingering feeling that she was somehow making a mistake. _Stop it._ "I guess we'd better hurry, then," said Elsa, raising her eyebrows. "By the time we get back to Camelot, it'll probably be morning…"

Merlin sighed again, an ironic smile crossing his face. "Long night."

They fell into step together, leaving behind the glimmering lake and clearing – Elsa spared it a glance back, taking in its lonely appearance and swallowing down her foreboding. "So – what are you going to do, once we do get back to Camelot?" asked Elsa quickly, giving a little dry laugh, perhaps to break the slightly stifling silence more than anything. "What's the plan?"

Merlin glanced at her from the side, a small frown beginning to form on his brow. "Lay low," he replied quietly, brushing a low-hanging branch out of their path. "I'll talk to Gaius, I guess…try and figure things out."

_What a plan_, Elsa thought sourly, but she just frowned. "Right, so Gaius knows about you, right?" Elsa thought back to the kindly, though stern, old physician who'd taken care of her. "You said that he taught you?"

Merlin nodded, eyes firmly set on the faint trail through the woods around them. "He gave me a spell book, not long after I arrived in Camelot," said Merlin in a low voice. "That's been pretty much my only source for learning magic. Of course, I can still do the instinctual stuff, but spells are a lot more precise."

Elsa nodded slowly, eyes downcast. "No one else knows about you, in Camelot, do they?"

For a moment there was only the soft crunching of leaves and twigs under their feet. "No one else – well, other than the dragon." Merlin replied eventually, his voice even quieter than before.

Elsa nodded again, a tiny movement – Merlin was still looking resolutely forward, so it went unnoticed. The forest was quiet around them – a settling quiet, maybe listening, maybe just sleeping – Elsa sighed silently, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"What was it like?" Her voice was barely even a whisper, and the question surprised her as much as it seemed to surprise Merlin. He faltered in his sure steps for a second, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Elsa ducked her head, taking a breath. "I mean – living in Camelot, having to pretend. That life…" She trailed off, unsure – the question had come out of nowhere, she knew, but pensive moods like these weren't uncommon to her, throughout her life of monotony.

Merlin swallowed, sending her an inquisitive look from under his uneven black fringe. "What – but you already know…"

Elsa shook her head, gulping. "Just – tell me." She already knew, and she knew that. _That's not what I'm asking. _

A heavy pause followed her quiet words – they walked on, side by side, but their surroundings were practically forgotten to Elsa. Finally Merlin took a slow breath, his words coming slowly.

"It…it's lonely, for one," said Merlin haltingly, so quiet that Elsa had to sidestep, moving a little closer to him, so she could hear. They both slowed in their walk, unconsciously – Elsa stared at Merlin's profile, eyes narrowed attentively. "Being around other people, knowing them, and having them think that they know _you_, too. Thinking about what might happen if they ever knew the _real_ you. And…it's hard, of course. It's like – like living two lives, always apologizing for the one that they know about, because you're living it so incompletely – and also apologizing for the one that they _don't_ know about, trying to fill in the missing pieces. Sometimes…sometimes you just want to give up, and just say, 'to hell with it all', but…there are good times, as well. So I never have."

Merlin had slowed almost to a standstill, with one foot shuffling slowly forward – his gaze tracked on the ground beneath their feet, he avoided Elsa's eyes. She watched him for a few seconds, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. The seconds ticked by –

"And you're willing to go back there?" Elsa whispered finally, frowning. "Back to that? Why?"

Merlin looked up sharply, eyes narrowed in a frown – he took a quick breath, tense. "Because I have to," said Merlin quietly, his voice firm. "It's my responsibility." His quiet glare seemed almost accusatory, Elsa thought – as if he were silently saying, _don't ever doubt that_. His dedication was unwavering, she could see that – and yet, Elsa couldn't help but feel that disturbing sense of incompleteness. Like something was missing, no matter how much she wanted to just trust him and believe him.

Elsa forced herself to look away, forced herself to take a step forwards. "Okay," said Elsa, but why did she have to practically spit out the words? When did talking become so much more voluntary than normal – she heard Merlin take a slow step after her, and bit her lip, something like alarm welling up inside of her–

Suddenly, a sharp scuffling sound reached her ears, a muted cry and a crackling _thud_ – Elsa whipped around, mouth open in a gasp, before a sense of deep calm engulfed her, washing over the panic.

Dezyra stood a few feet away, her eyes burning with some distant emotion and her palm extended in front of her. Merlin's crumpled form lay at her feet – Elsa's gaze flickered to his face, his closed eyes, for only a second, before they flitted away again. Dezyra's eyes were compelling, and she found that she couldn't look away. _Couldn't_.

"Elsa," said Dezyra in her calming voice, pinching her eyebrows together a little in the beginnings of a frown. "Elsa, you have to come with me. You can't trust him."

For a moment, she could only stand there, gaping – something wrong, but her mind was too sluggish to think _what_. "Dezyra – but you…Merlin said – "

"You can't trust him," intoned Dezyra slowly, raising her eyebrows in emphasis. "Believe me. I only want to help you. We want the same thing. You can trust me, not him – he's already keeping secrets from you, can't you tell? You can sense that there's something more."

_Something more_? _Yes, but still…_She could feel a growing pain in her temple pounding, and she took a panting breath, shaking her head. "I don't – I don't know, there's something wrong –" She reached out to the panic underneath all that _calm_, knowing somehow that it held the answer, but it was too deep, like an endless lake, and she'd run out of breath before ever reaching the bottom.

"I promise I'll help you," said Dezyra, stepping slowly around Merlin's prone form – she reached out, her fingers curved and inviting to Elsa's hand. "Just trust me. He wants to take you back to Camelot so that he can kill you. That's who Emrys is – he's a killer of people with magic, people like us. He wants to raise his prince Arthur to the throne so that one day, he'll control a great monarch. That's all he wants. He doesn't care about you."

The words felt wrong, somehow – wrong, and like a knife to the heart, because the _meaning_ hit her the hardest. _Merlin wants me dead_? A single thought pierced the fog of her mind – an image of Merlin, his eyes cold and distant, reaching out to her, but not to help – the thought of the Merlin she'd known so far being a _lie_ was like poison. "He doesn't…" Elsa whispered, feeling her knees buckle.

Dezyra was there, her warm arms embracing Elsa. "Shh," she whispered, her smiling face filling Elsa's vision, suddenly blurred by tears. "It's alright, I promise I'll take care of you. I just need you to help me stop him. He'll only try and separate us, so he can kill us both. But if you help me, we can stop him, and then there'll be nothing in our way. We can be friends. I'll teach you, and I'll take care of you. We'll be happy."

_Her words are poison too._ Merlin's voice? But then, the idea of a hateful, uncaring Merlin pounded back into her mind, and then those words vanished. Elsa sobbed, gasping for breath, returning Dezyra's embrace – _he hates me_. "Okay," whispered Elsa, closing her eyes, because there was still something, struggling underneath that pain and that calmness – but Dezyra's smile was right there, and Merlin was a liar, wasn't he?

Dezyra pulled out of the hug a little, smiling warmly at Elsa, her eyes dark. "Good."

**Sooo…I'm sorry to all of you who are wishing that I would just officially ship Merlin and Elsa already. Sorry. The plot comes first, of course. Next time: crap happens. Next time will probably be the end of August, but then I will start to actually update again. So yay! In a while. Thanks for reading, and please tell me what you think! I'd love to hear from you. Have a nice day! **

**~whatswiththemustache**


	18. Cold Chains

**Hi! Well, like I said – end of August, regular updates. That starts now (hopefully). So, unless I get really sick – as in, death-bed sick – or I lose my memory, or I get abducted by aliens…(or I get flooded by homework and studying, since I'm taking **_**college**_** classes now) I should update every Tuesday! What could go wrong, against those odds? ;) But anyway – yeah, we should be fine. **

**Who else is pumped about school starting back up? I certainly am! Not even being jokey here. I haven't seen my friends all summer, and I love my school, because it's an awesome charter school, soo…yeah, I'm happy. :D Hope you are too – and if you're not, then hopefully this will cheer you up. A Tale of Fire and Ice – chapter eighteen. Enjoy! **

**Chapter Eighteen: Cold Chains**

The world spun – out of reach, too distant for her to reach out and take hold of something familiar. It throbbed, stopping all thought before it started. _What am I_… no. Every effort, every try she made – just disappeared. She couldn't.

The only thing that remained was Dezyra's smile, warm and comforting – seeing it made her forget everything that seemed wrong. It didn't matter, did it? _Dezyra and I – we'll be friends – nothing between us – everything will be okay. _Comparisons and relationships presented themselves to her, but they all would flit away before she could even see them. _Like we would have been – who's we?_ Doesn't matter. A beautiful smile, but she couldn't see who it belonged to. Doesn't matter anyway. _Like Anna and me, if only the magic – Anna?_ The thought was gone.

"Elsa?" The voice was clear, blindingly clear in amidst the fog of everything else. _Dezyra_. "Elsa, you have to help me. I need your help, and then we can stay together – then everything will be okay. I promise." Elsa turned slowly, as if she was submerged in water – everything was like that, come to think of it. The underwater vision – rippled, slower and more far away, somehow. Motion, held down like that…thought, blurry and sluggish.

Dezyra's face was clear, though – smiling earnestly as ever, reaching out a questioning hand. Elsa moved forward, without needing to think – she took Dezyra's hand in hers, grasping it tightly. _Union_. Having a place felt nice, even if she couldn't remember how she'd gotten it – what she was even doing here. But did it matter? Everything would only ripple, painstakingly slow, if she tried…

Dezyra looked down, at the ground before them – following her gaze, the sight registered in Elsa's mind listlessly. Forest – _still in a forest, when was that…?_ The ground was covered in needles and dead leaves, a brown and earthy mixture – but aside from that, a form, lying on the ground. Familiar – but forgotten. For some reason, the sight of that person brought a light, fluttering feeling to her chest – almost like something was tickling her heart. But why?

_Merlin_, she thought. _That's why_. She frowned – but then the lethargy washed over her again, Doesn't matter. _Who_? Her mind kept going back to Dezyra – yearning for that friendship, that relationship..._like_ _sisters_. _We'll be like that_. The man on the ground before her was only a shape, colors dominating – _tan, red, blue, brown_ – it didn't matter.

"He's a liar," whispered Dezyra's voice, always so clear, practically in her ear. "He'd kill us both. He'd have us executed, burnt at the stake, while his precious prince looked on. He doesn't care about you. Only I do." Just words, but they brought on a familiar pang. _You don't need him, you can't have him_.

_That's right_, she thought, but she still didn't know why. Only that he brought pain, and Dezyra brought comfort, and she wanted to be happy, didn't she?

"Help me," said Dezyra quietly, not really a request – more an order. A command. Elsa didn't even think of not obliging. "Help me to stop him. Then we'll be safe."

She felt her head move, nodding an agreement – not thinking, because there was no room in her mind. But what else would she have done? There was nothing.

Dezyra nodded, satisfied, before lifting one hand out in front of her – the palm was down, fingers extended as if she were reaching out go gently touch something. Or perhaps offering a tentative hand to someone, only half expecting them to take it. But then – despite the fog in her mind, despite the slow waves of water that seemed to coat everything – suddenly Elsa felt a wave of warmth, sweeping up like a flush over her whole body. A breath of air caressed her face, though from which direction she couldn't tell. The ground _shifted_ – it didn't move, not really. It was more like waking up. Just discovering the ability to move. Elsa felt herself shifting as well, just moving uneasily on her feet, before Dezyra cast her a calming glance – or perhaps cast her a calming _thought_. Just like that.

But then the ground _was_ moving – rearranging itself impossibly, right before her eyes. It rippled, too; it crumpled around that prone, barely breathing figure – around _Merlin_. Why didn't she care? The absence of alarm was, in itself, nearly alarming – but wave after wave of controlled, confident _calm_ just kept coming. _Doesn't matter_. Dezyra smiled at her, completely in control, and Elsa smiled back.

The ground warped, repositioning – it sunk inwards, and then the patch of ground which supported the unconscious figure gradually began to drop away, descending downwards with a wall of crumbling earth on all sides. It seemed like she'd just blinked – and suddenly, there was a deep and unbelievably dark well in the earth before her. She shifted forward, inclining her head to look down – far, impossibly far down, she could just see the unmoving person. Merlin. Eyes still closed, face disturbingly pale. The sight, the _thought_ – an inexplicable wave of nausea went through her.

But she didn't care, did she? Elsa stepped back, at Dezyra's side once more.

"You have to finish it," said Dezyra steadily, looking Elsa in the eye. "The earth will bind him – but your ice can finish it. It will weaken him. He'll never get out, then, and we'll be safe."

She stared into Dezyra's eyes – dark, deep brown wells, themselves. Her words were clear, as always, but the meaning somehow slipped past her.

"You want me to…" Elsa thought, or said – thought loudly? Spoke quietly? She couldn't even tell.

"You have to," said Dezyra imploringly – eyebrows raised, head tilted a little in conviction. "I need you to. I need your help. We can help each other, remember? That's what we'll do. Just do this. Then we'll be safe. Just use your powers."

Elsa turned her head, looking back to that dark abyss – so ominous, so taunting, but why? Suddenly there was more than one voice whispering in her ear, into her mind. _Why would I…why wouldn't I?_ Nauseas again, Elsa forced herself to look away – or maybe something else forced her. Dezyra's eyes – and someone else's. Blue. _Don't do it…_

"Please, Elsa. For me. I need your help."

She closed her eyes – now there was shouting, crying and screaming, filling her mind to the point of explosion – not even foggy anymore, but so crowded, until she couldn't think –

"Elsa…"

That face flashed into her mind again, but it was still so blurred – tears came to her eyes, but she still couldn't remember _why_ –

"I need your help, Elsa. Please."

Each wave was more like a tidal wave, more like a stampede.

She nodded through the fog – _stop, don't, what are you doing_ – Dezyra's smile filled her whole vision, and her pleased expression emanating not graditude, but satisfaction – _what am I_ – Elsa raised her hand, imitating Dezyra's position perfectly.

The icy power swirled up through her, somehow similar to clarity, but even that couldn't cut through the fog. It only made her forget about it even more.

* * *

Arthur's day began, as wasn't too unusual for an existence in Camelot, with confusion.

His slumbering mind still bogged down by the haze of early-morning blankness, he didn't quite snap completely out of sleep when he distantly heard his name called out – he heard someone moan sluggishly, only to realize a second later that it was _him_ doing that. And something was wrong with that voice, that way in which they called out to him – he blinked slowly, the darkness of the room not hurting his eyes, which was strange…

"Prince Arthur! Sire, the king requests your immediate presence in the council chambers."

Formal. That was it. Such formality, so early in the morning, was throwing him off. There was nothing further from Merlin's usual habits – wait, that wasn't Merlin's voice –

Arthur sat up groggily, squinting through the gloomy room to see the messenger – a youngish boy, some page probably – standing uncertainly in the doorway to his chambers, his eyes darting around the room as if he weren't sure what to do next. Arthur rubbed at his eyes, not bothering to be discreet, before coughing slightly.

"Why are you…" rasped Arthur, trailing off to clear his throat. The situation still felt strange and off balance. "Where's Merlin?"

The page blinked, opening his mouth indecisively. "I – er, I was only told to deliver that message, sire," he stammered, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. "I don't know – I can ask someone, if you'd like, to try and find out, but – I'm afraid I don't really know –" Cheeks flushed, the boy fidgeted hesitantly – his uncertainty bewildered Arthur, despite the fact that he knew exactly why, really. Servants and peasants tried to please him all the time, and whenever they were stymied by an unforeseen request, they got like this. Uncomfortable. Having Merlin as his servant had changed things a lot – Arthur had gotten used to Merlin's ridiculous ways, his lack of respect, instead. He couldn't really say which annoyed him more, now – Merlin's casual disregard for his position, or the average peasant's extreme uneasiness at being in the same room with him.

At the moment, it would probably be Merlin's casual disregard that annoyed him more. Because, he should have been _here_ by now. What was that idiot _doing_?

Arthur shook his head in annoyance, ripping the heavy covers off of him and heaving himself out of bed. "That good for nothing, lazy –" He cut himself off as a look bordering on pure terror crossed the messenger's face – it was almost laughable, if only his fear hadn't been so genuine.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head and resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, go and try and find out what happened to that idiot. Check Gaius's chambers – I'll bet Merlin's sleeping in or something. Wouldn't surprise me, anyway," he muttered, turning and sending a vague glance around the darkened room. The curtains were still drawn over the windows, and his clothes must have been put away somewhere – there wasn't an article of clothing in sight. _That idiot_. Even if he'd done his job by putting Arthur's clothes away the night before – now how was Arthur supposed to find everything?

The messenger still lingering in the doorway , making a little head bow rather uncertainly. "Yes, sire," he said hesitantly, watching Arthur as he stood in the center of his chambers, looking around with hands on hips. Arthur turned back to him and raised his eyebrows.

"Anything else?"

"Er, no, I just wanted to…" he cleared his throat, straightening self-consciously. "Just – the king. He awaits your presence…?"

Arthur could have smacked his forehead – before realizing the urge and marveling at the Merlin-ness of it. _Stupid_. "Right," said Arthur aloud, blinking. "Er – yeah, I'll be there – I'm on my way. Thank you." He ran a hand through his hair before starting off to his wardrobe, then making a detour to the windows and yanking the curtains open to admit streams of glaringly bright mid-morning sunlight. _It's that late?_

"You're – you're welcome. Sire." The reply was the most awkward yet, and Arthur heard the boy flee, his footsteps pounding off down the corridor outside, and door shutting with a quiet _click_.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head. _What a way to start a day_. And of course, it was all Merlin's fault.

* * *

Arthur's boots made a loud _click, clack_ sound as his strode into the council chambers, returning a curt nod to the two men who stood guard outside the heavy double doors. Face smoothed into one of quiet concern, he made long strides as he entered the room, noting the others in it – a handful of aged, robed council members; a few knights, their cloaks splashes of crimson amidst all the other, darker hues in the room; Gaius, standing his hands clasped near the throne-like chair at the head of the long table. And in that chair, of course, was the king; Uther's head lifted at the sound of Arthur's steps, his dark eyes meeting Arthur's. The king leaned back in his chair, a frown on his face – Arthur swallowed and walked a little faster. _What's happened now? _He had been hoping that whatever the problem was, it wasn't too serious.

"Arthur," his father greeted him in a low tone as he came closer.

"Father," said Arthur quickly, inclining his head fractionally – just a habit, really. He felt a growing concern at all the frowning faces – even Gaius, who was usually impassive, sported a forehead that was a little more wrinkled than usual. "What's happened?"

Uther observed him with a frown for a second, mouth pressed into a thin line. "A guest has gone missing," declared the king after a beat of silence. "Princess Elsa. She disappeared in the night – no one saw or heard from her since last night. Her maid was the last to have seen her, and she maintains that when she left last night, the princess was prepared for bed and wouldn't have had any reason to leave the chambers. The guards have reported nothing. Elsa has simply vanished."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat. _Vanished_. Of course, that wasn't possible. But, as a guest in another kingdom's castle, Elsa wouldn't have just walked away without telling anyone, and certainly not in the middle of the night. Arthur's mind flashed back to a few days ago, when they'd first stumbled onto Elsa – she had been attacked and injured by that group of men. What if their hunting party hadn't come across that clearing, at exactly the right time? And they didn't know anything about those men – not their identity, their motives. Elsa couldn't remember anything. Thoughts racing, he came onto the conclusion just as Uther opened his mouth to speak –

"You think she's been kidnapped," stated Arthur, watching his father's face.

Uther's head dipped in a short nod. "There is no evidence to suggest otherwise," said the king darkly, his frown more pronounced. "Especially with the report you gave me on how you came across Elsa. She was being attacked by a group of men, you said. Those men escaped, and so far, Elsa has been able to tell us nothing about who they were, or how she came to be within the borders of Camelot with no escort, no warning. I can only conclude that those men followed you back to Camelot, and that last night, they returned to kidnap the princess."

An uneasy rustle spread through the room as everyone within shifted, waiting for Uther's next words.

"Though, as to how they got in and out of the citadel without alerting _any_ of the guards to their presence…" Uther raised his gaze to glare at the room in general, his voice taking on a tone of displeasure. "And neither was there any sign of a struggle at all – nothing to show that someone broke into the castle and kidnapped a sleeping princess. It is looking more and more certain that there is sorcery involved here." Uther finished with a clenched jaw, his eyes dark.

An almost customary silence filled the room – like no one wanted to move, or even breathe lest they be associated with that term – _sorcery_ – in the least bit. No one wanted to draw attention to themselves whenever that topic came up, and Arthur didn't blame them. He lowered his gaze himself, eying his boots for a long moment – scuffed and dusty, he noted – before opening his mouth to speak. "What are your orders?"

The king paused, taking a deep breath through his nose. "Set up patrols to scour the city for any information we can gain on the occurrences of last night. Then send out extra patrols beyond the city, to –" Uther faltered as a set of pounding footsteps approached the room from the corridor outside – suddenly another knight, Sir Fredrick, appeared in the doorway, his jaw-length hair tousled and his face slightly reddened from exertion.

"My lords!" Fredrick strode into the room, his bright red cloak swirling around his ankles. "Tracks have been found beyond the city gates. They lead into the forest south – off the main road. The guards at the city gates say that no one has been seen leaving the city this morning or last night, but the tracks are from this past night."

Uther sat up in his chair, eyes lit by an urgent spark. "How many sets of tracks were there? Were they on horseback?"

Fredrick met the king's inquisitor gaze head-on, which was a sign of courage for a knight as young as he. Arthur watched him intently as he spoke. "There were just two sets of track, my lord, and they were on foot."

Arthur could see the wheels turning in his father's mind. "Just two?" He repeated sharply, standing. "One man cannot keep a kidnapped woman in check, no matter how strong – and one man certainly cannot leave a castle without notice while keeping her restrained. There is no doubt – if those are the right set of tracks, then the kidnapper is using sorcery." Uther raised his head to look at Arthur, a concerned frown set firmly on his face.

Arthur took a step forward, feeling his heart begin to pump a little faster in anticipation for what he knew was to come. "I'll take a dozen knights and follow the tracks immediately," said Arthur quickly, his hand moving instinctively to rest on the hilt of his sword.

"Arthur," Uther's voice was sharp and imperative. Arthur met his father's eyes steadily, seeing the worry there. "Tread carefully with this. Despite the circumstances with which she arrived here, Elsa is a visiting dignitary – and Camelot will be held responsible for any harm that comes to her while in our care. You _must_ see that she is safely returned."

Arthur dipped his head in an obedient nod, and his father sank slowly back into his chair. "Send out a few patrols to question the townspeople, in case there is anything more to learn," said Uther in his ringing voice, raising his chin. "Then set out immediately. Send word of any occurrences, and send word before you leave Camelot's borders, if the trail leads that far."

"I will, father," replied Arthur, already turning his back as he strode out of the room, Sir Fredrick, the other knights, and Gaius on his heels. He could feel the uneasiness filling the room at his back. _Don't worry_, he thought. _I'll make you proud_.

Out in the hallway, Arthur slowed down to let Gaius catch up. He had undoubtedly been called to the council chambers to tell the king of the details of his examination of Elsa – and Arthur had noticed that Merlin hadn't been standing behind Gaius's shoulder back in there, as he usually was when not following Arthur.

"Gaius," offered Arthur as a terse greeting. Gaius hummed in response, opening his mouth to speak, but Arthur beat him to it.

"Have you any idea where Merlin is?" asked Arthur quickly, allowing his annoyance to seep into his tone. "The idiot never showed up this morning." _And let me sleep half the morning away_, he thought, but didn't say. It wasn't that he was _incapable_ of waking up on his own – he was just tired. He didn't need Gaius's skeptical look, though, and he didn't think he'd survive another encounter with Gaius's chastising eyebrows.

The look on Gaius's face, however, was far from reprimanding. "You haven't seen him?" said Gaius with a tone bordering on anxiety, his frown deepening. "I was about to ask you the same thing. He never came home last night." His words were slow with growing concern.

Arthur threw up his hands in exasperation, stifling a note of unease at the news. "Terrific! What perfect timing for a late night at the tavern. I swear, if he's sleeping it off in some –" Arthur broke off, shaking his head. Merlin's incompetence would never cease to amaze him, would it?

Gaius wasn't amused. He watched Arthur's reaction with wide eyes, mouth set into a firm line. "Sire, I very much doubt that that is what happened." Ah, _there_ was the disapproval. "I'm afraid that this might be much more serious."

Arthur swallowed, turning to meet Gaius's eye with a frown. His familiar, even _fond_ exasperation ebbed away, replacing itself with a strangely hollow feeling of concern. "What do you mean?" He realized that his feet had stilled, and he simply stood in the hallway, his knights waiting patiently behind.

Gaius's face was etched with a frown of disquiet as he hesitated, chewing on his words. "Yesterday, after I sent Merlin to escort Elsa to her chambers, he returned to express some…_concern_ over Elsa. He said he was worried about her. And now she's disappeared, and him as well –" Gaius left the sentence hanging suggestively.

"What are you saying?"

"Merlin wouldn't just disappear, Arthur," said Gaius quietly, his voice hushed. "What if he saw Elsa being kidnapped? What if he followed the kidnappers, thinking to help – or, if he tried to interfere there and then? I wouldn't put it past him."

Arthur considered the words, his frown deepening, before biting back a curse. _No, I wouldn't put it past him either_. Merlin was an idiot, certainly – but he was also recklessly, idiotically brave. Arthur had never known a servant who would risk his life as many times as Merlin had. Throughout his time in Camelot, _Merlin_ had risked his life more often than all the servants in Camelot put together had – the beast in the wells under Camelot, that poisoned goblet that he'd idiotically drunk, the whole unicorn incident, the Questing Beast. Merlin always stuck his neck out, always tagged along, whenever danger cropped up. Arthur would never say it aloud where Merlin could hear, but he _was_ brave – stupidly, stupidly brave. Stupidly, because _why_ didn't the idiot come to Arthur before recklessly going after a sorcerer who'd kidnapped a princess?

He shook his head slowly, hands on his hips. "There were only two sets of tracks found," he said after a moment, a little hopeful – but his words just sounded resigned.

Gaius sighed. "Just because another set weren't found, doesn't mean that there wasn't another," the old man answered. "And, I have to say, after all this time serving as your manservant, surely Merlin has learned _something_ about passing through an area without leaving a trace behind." Gaius's words sounded a little elusive – but Arthur knew that Gaius just wanted him to see Merlin's disappearance as a cause for alarm. Arthur couldn't blame him – obviously, Gaius cared for Merlin, and he wanted him to return safely. _Arthur_ wanted the idiot to return safely – if only to give him a good lesson on the practices that a servant _should_ follow.

"Just – please, sire, keep it in mind. Whatever you might encounter, look out for him. Merlin's always getting himself mixed up in trouble…" Gaius trailed off, sounding especially weary.

Arthur nodded slowly, still frowning as he met Gaius's eyes. "I will. I promise." He shook his head again, sighing. "He may yet turn up with a hangover and a headache, though." Arthur added with a cheerful lilt to his voice, attempting to ease Gaius's worry, but even to his ears, the words sounded fake.

Gaius didn't look convinced. "Thank you, sire," sighed Gaius, before he nodded slightly and turned to shuffle off. Arthur watched him go, forehead creasing back into a frown, before turning to face the three knights that still stood a few feet off, no sign of impatience on their impassive faces.

"Come on, then," said Arthur in resignation, meeting each man's eyes. "We've got a lot to do."

* * *

They were ready to leave, about to mount up, when she appeared.

Arthur heard his name cried out and echoing through the courtyard, and he turned, grasping his horse's reins in his gloved hands, to see Morgana rushing down the steps, dark hair bouncing and lavender gown trailing in her wake. Gwen trailed after her, her dark hands tucking up her skirts as she followed the lady, confusion spelled out on her face.

Morgana strode right up to Arthur, her painted lips open as she prepared to speak – her eyebrows were pinched, however, and her face was pale. Arthur took a step forward to meet her, his eyes moving involuntarily to Gwen's concerned face – their eyes met for a second, both worried, before Arthur's attention snapped back to Morgana. "Morgana? What's wrong?"

Morgana stepped unusually close to Arthur, her head tilted up and mouth gasping with quick breaths. "Arthur – you're going after her, aren't you?" A tight frown marred Morgana's features, and her eyes were unreadable.

Arthur nodded. "You heard?"

Morgana stared for a second, eyes wide – then her head ducked down, waves of black hair rippling forward. When she looked back up again, her jaw was set in determination. "You have to be careful," said Morgana, her voice commanding despite the slight quiver that ran through it. "Don't trust – just don't trust anyone. Be _careful_, and - and look after Merlin."

Her words sent a wave of unease through Arthur. Look after _Merlin_? Morgana looked fearful, and even self-conscious – that would have to be a first for her. But why _Merlin_? "Why?" Arthur voiced aloud, frowning even more. "What do you mean – how did you know? Has Gaius told you –" Morgana took a step back, and Arthur broke off, watching her. She shook her head fractionally, seeming a little surprised herself – surprised and distraught.

"Please be careful," she whispered, her lip trembling, before she blinked heavily, lowering her head and turning, hurrying back up the stairs. Gwen's expression was shocked, and she frowned in concern, rushing after her Lady. But as Arthur watched Morgana go, his mind took him back to another incident very much like this one…

When he'd set out to find the Questing Beast – just as they'd been about to leave, halfway up onto their saddles – Morgana had rushed out, still in her nightgown, screaming and sobbing as she tried to tell Arthur to stay. She'd been terrified, he remembered – everyone had pegged it as a bad nightmare, but then Arthur had come back unconscious, on death's door. He'd never really thought about that strange coincidence much before – but now, the similarities and the timing seemed a little more than strange. This time, Morgana wasn't screaming – but Arthur was setting out on what was probably going to be a difficult and dangerous quest, and Merlin had disappeared. Morgana was warning him to look out for Merlin. Why?

Arthur swallowed down the growing sense of dread, shaking his head and turning to mount, settling into the saddle. There would be a long ride ahead during which he could ponder the strange coincidences going on around here. For now, though, they needed to get going and find Elsa – and perhaps Merlin as well.

* * *

**Yes, I realize that this wasn't exactly the most suspenseful ending that was possible – I guess I'm just not really in a cliffhanger mood. Mind-blowing, I know. Anyway, I hope you liked – please tell me what you think! And, remember – I should be going back to regular updates now! As in, once a week. Hurrah! So you should be seeing that update next Tuesday. You're welcome **

**P.S.: Does anyone actually know which way the Lake of Avalon would be in relation to Camelot? Like, north or south, east or west…because I totally pulled "south" out of the breeze. If anyone does know, it would be great if you could tell me and then I can fix that into something a little more accurate…**

**Thanks for reading! Hopefully, you'll hear (read?) from me soon. Have a nice day!**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	19. Bound

**Hey there! Sorry for being a day late – but I **_**would've**_** updated yesterday, if only FF hadn't decided to not cooperate. I couldn't log into my account all day yesterday, so no updating for me. Did anyone else have that problem, or was it just me? Because it was really annoying. I'd actually finished this chapter on Saturday, so I was all ready to impress you with my newfound reliability…and then, not. So, sorry about that.**

**Anyway – here's the chapter! Hope you like. **

**Chapter Nineteen: Bound**

Moist earth, an overwhelming scent of decay and mildew, all intensified by the stillness of air in a small space – Merlin gasped into awareness, immediately coughing and choking on the smell and taste of the air. The second sensation that hit him was the wave of pain, coming upon him as if a switch had been flipped – his head ached, and when he moved just fractionally, a piercing stab went through his skull. _Ouch_. Merlin groaned, taking a deep breath – it sent him into another coughing fit as he inhaled a cloud of dust.

Merlin groaned again, curling in on himself as he started to sit upright – and froze as his eyes snapped open, just in time.

A pale glimmer stood out amidst the rest of the darkness that filled whatever space Merlin was in. The object came into focus slowly – it loomed directly in front of him, no more than half a foot away in the gloom. A blade? – his mind worked sluggishly through the haze of pain, but the object was still distantly familiar…and that was when he suddenly noticed the cold. It must have been freezing in that damp, musty place that he was in…and with that thought, it clicked.

_Ice_. Another shard of ice. Slowly Merlin lowered himself back to the ground, eyes darting as his vision grew sharper. They were everywhere – it was as if he'd fallen into a thicket of brambles, enormous brambles that were made of pure and razor-like ice. The only thing he could see was their faint glimmer, coming from an unknown source – above, the icy thorns grew thicker and closer, creating traces of a bluish-silver canopy overhead, fading into darkness. Where _was_ he? Some kind of dungeon? A well?

Merlin stared at the ice with a sickened sensation, trying to remember exactly what had happened. The last thing he could recall was talking to Elsa as they started back towards Camelot – she'd agreed with him, agreed to trust him. They'd been headed back to Camelot…then nothing. Just darkness.

But this was _her_ ice. It could be no one else's. So what had happened? What went wrong?

Merlin breathed heavily, clenching his jaw as his hands tightened into fists. _Why_? "Why would she…" he murmured, his words turning to mist in the air above him. And he'd tried _so_ hard, wanted so much to convince her that he wasn't the bad guy. That Dezyra was up to no good. That he could help. After all the ups and downs of this seemingly unending day, he'd almost given up hope that she would agree to go with him, but she had. For just a few minutes, and then…

"_No_!" Merlin pounded the ground which he lay on with a balled fist, a wave of frustration overwhelming him. Why couldn't he ever _save_ anyone? Why did all the people with which he shared the most important trait he possessed – the gift of magic – always turn out to be evil, dangerous, murderous or power-hungry, always using their magic to hurt rather than help? Wasn't there _anyone_ that was like him, actually like him?

_Why couldn't she at least have been different…_

But those who had no cause always ended up somehow ensnared in the causes of someone else – and those with power tended to attract a wide range. If only he'd gotten to Elsa sooner, somehow convinced her…but Dezyra's power of persuasion would always outmatch his. Surely the only reason that Elsa would have done this was because Dezyra had some control over her…or, maybe she'd been lying from the start, and always was on Dezyra's side, and against Merlin.

_But if not…_he was hesitant to allow even a tiny bubble of hope into his heart, but there _was_ a possibility that Dezyra was only controlling her, forcing Elsa to do her will. And if that was the case…_then I might still be able to save her_.

The muffled silence was the only answer to the thought, but the unsaid still lingered – _it was possible_.

"Well," Merlin muttered to himself, critically examining the ice that surrounded him. "Either way, I've still got to get out of here somehow." It was impossible to tell from there – wherever _there_ was – but it might already be past dawn, or even well into the new day. If so, then by now Elsa would have been discovered missing in Camelot…and Uther would send Arthur looking. Merlin winced a little at the thought of how furious Arthur must be at his disappearance, as well – he was probably already well on his way to being fired. Again.

Merlin shook the thought off, grimacing in determination. _If Arthur or any of the patrols do find Elsa and Dezyra, then there's no telling what she'll do to them_. Dezyra had seemed pretty adamant on her hatred of the Pendragons, though – most magic-users were – so he'd be willing to bet that if she ran into Arthur, things might get nasty. So – he had to get out.

"First thing's first," said Merlin briskly, taking a deep breath. He lifted his right hand out before him, holding out his palm so that it was horizontal, and closed his eyes, grasping his magic inside him. He was supposed to be an elementalist, too – and it seemed to him that there was no better way to fight ice than with fire.

"_Forbearne_!" His eyes narrowed with a flash of gold, and from his palm sprang a jet of orange flame, lighting up the confines of the space – the light nearly blinded him, after being in the dark for so long, and he shut his eyes tightly, wincing. He felt the flame sputter out as he lost concentration, and the darkness swept back into place.

_Damn_. Merlin grunted, trying to shift his position without having to sit up at all – it would be only too easy to impale himself with the wrong move. Once again he held out his hand, but this time it was cupped in front of him. He narrowed his eyes to slits, closing them until he could barely see anything, before doing the magic.

"_Forbearne_," he whispered this time, concentrating on a very different idea of fire. A tiny, miniscule flicker of flame appeared in his hand, wavering and almost disappearing constantly. For a while he just watched, letting his vision adjust; gradually he allowed the fire to grow larger and larger, until a three-inch tongue of flame danced merrily in his palm. Confident that his eyes were used to the light, he let the fire die and concentrated again.

The third time he performed the spell, the great blaze of fire that Merlin conjured didn't bother his eyes; gritting his teeth, he willed it to become hotter, stronger. The orange flames licked the ice that surrounded him for only a few seconds – and then, the fire shrunk and vanished.

Merlin gasped a quick breath, his brow furrowed in bewilderment. _Why didn't it… _

"_Forbearne_!" Merlin shouted, directing the flow of flames at the shard of ice right in front of him, focusing his magic on the tongue of flame so it was a more concentrated, narrow stream – he felt beads of sweat on his forehead as he fought to keep the flame alive, but in seconds it flickered, slipping out of his grasp – then darkness again.

Merlin slumped to the ground, panting for breath. "What's...wrong…" He hadn't felt this fatigued after doing magic in…well, for a long time, and then only because it was a difficult spell – such as when he used the Cup of Life to kill Nimueh. And that circumstance quite outweighed a little fire spell, one that he'd mastered years ago. Merlin lifted his hand before his eyes, noting how it trembled.

Creating a flame for light hadn't bothered him at all, but using that flame against the ice made him feel exhausted. Merlin frowned, thinking back to what the dragon had told him about elemental magic – something about opposites? Elements that were opposites too each other were vulnerable to each other…but the dragon had also said that his power was greater than Elsa's, so he would have an advantage. So why wasn't his fire working? There was no doubt that he was more powerful than Elsa – all she had was her instinctual power, while he had some actual training as well. It didn't make sense…

Merlin tried the spell again, focusing harder – he held out for a few seconds longer than before, but in the end, the flames were snuffed out once again. As he tried to regain his breath and strength, Merlin shook his head, baffled. The flames were always just _put out_ – but the cold of the ice couldn't do that; it wasn't _that_ cold. Elsa wouldn't know how to work any complicated magic that held back his powers…there had to be something else. Something holding back his magic, something _snuffing it out_ before he could do any damage…Merlin clenched his hands, frustration rising up again, taking it out on the earthen surface beneath him.

And then…_earth_.

Of course. Merlin quickly grasped a handful of the black dirt, pressing it between his fingers before letting it crumble back to the ground. Wherever he was, he was surrounded by ice and earth – and up until now, he hadn't yet gotten a chance to find out what Dezyra's element was. Now, though, he could hazard a guess.

"Obviously," muttered Merlin to the stillness, feeling a bit disappointed with himself for being so slow on the uptake. He'd have to blame it on the headache.

Two different elements opposing – confining – his. Merlin had a feeling that no matter how much he tried melting the ice or moving the earth, he wouldn't get very far. It would be impossible for him to fight both Elsa and Dezyra at once. He was running out of options…

He lay unmoving for an uncounted span of time – minutes, hours? – trying to think, just _think_ of something, anything that would help. Every time, his mind circled back to the only thing that seemed even worth consideration. He'd need Elsa on his side. So somehow, he had to break Dezyra's hold over her.

_And how exactly am I going to do that? _

* * *

It turned out to be a ridiculously short ride before Arthur was catapulted into high alert, sending his men in various directions with almost instinctual sign language. An outrider had returned silent and tense, reporting that just ahead in the next copse were two women, one blond and resembling Elsa, the other chanting in some foreign language – possibly the language of the Old Religion? Arthur had the patrol spread out, sending half the men to circle around so that they'd have the women surrounded, even though the whole situation set badly with him.

_We haven't even been riding for an hour yet_, thought Arthur, his mind racing to find some error in his calculations so that this would make sense. But there was nothing. Here they were, an easy ride from Camelot, and already stumbling upon Elsa and her kidnapper? _Something's wrong_. The only redeemable point about this whole thing was the fact that so far, there hadn't been any sign of Merlin – no additional tracks, and apparently only two women up ahead in the clearing. _He must still be back at Camelot_, Arthur thought, not even bothering to suppress his relief.

They crept through the trees with no sound, leaving the horses a few hundred paces back down the trail so that they were out of earshot. Soon the chanting grew loud enough to hear – Arthur gulped, determining immediately that they were the words of some spell or prayer in the Old Religion. Definitely sorcery – definitely outlawed. Whoever the other woman was, she was a powerful enough sorceress to be able to sneak into Camelot unnoticed, somehow disable or enchant Elsa so that she would go with her, and go quietly – and then come out here, in the woods that were practically Camelot's back yard. Which left a very bad taste in his mouth. This probably wasn't a good idea.

Arthur grimaced as the knights that flanked him slowed and turned to him, their faces questioning – they were waiting for him to give the order. An order which Arthur had already been given – _find and return Elsa, take out the sorcerer responsible_. Uther's orders were usually resolute and non-negotiable, but sometimes Arthur couldn't help but question them, at least in the privacy of his own mind. And now was one of those times.

_Please don't let her be too powerful…_

Arthur sighed as he let his raised hand fall, sending his knights darting forward as they closed in on the two figures standing in the little thicket up ahead.

The chanting voice stopped as the previously unseen knights emerged, their red capes and unsheathed steel flashing amidst all the greenery. Arthur walked forward with his sword held out in front of him loosely, flicking it up to just graze the back of the dark-haired woman who stood there. In the few seconds of silence, his eyes flitted around the area, taking in as much as he could. The other woman _was_ Elsa – wearing her detailed gown and expensive cloak, with the same pale face and paler braid slung over her shoulder, the princess was unchanged from the last time Arthur had seen her. Even her blank face was familiar, and Elsa's eyes – a pale, clear sky-blue – were unfocused, only staring blankly ahead and not taking notice of any of the knights that were now in plain view. _Enchanted_. The thicket of trees was perfectly ordinary except for a patch of earth to the side that seemed as if it had just been torn up and reshaped – a deep gouge of about six feet in length was at its center, glistening slightly in a strange way. Arthur could only spare the strange formation a second's glance before turning his attention back to the woman – sorceress – who stood poised a sword's length away.

"Don't try anything," said Arthur quietly into the silence, his voice both soft and commanding. "Or I will run you through."

The woman sighed loudly, her glossy brown hair rippling with the motion. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." Her voice sent a shiver through Arthur. Her words were soft, like his – and yet so precise, with a nearly indecipherable note of sarcasm that could easily be mistaken for compliance; her voice was too perfect. It was the voice of someone was used to taking advantage of and manipulating others, and someone who did it well.

A sorceress with a voice like that was someone that Arthur definitely didn't want to tangle with.

And yet, Arthur couldn't afford to show apprehension, for both the sake of his knights and for the sorceress. He sent a glance around the circle of knights, meeting eyes with each for a split-second; their misgivings weren't so well hidden. _Just another reason why I have to be strong_.

"As Arthur Pendragon, knight and heir to the throne of Camelot, I hereby place you under arrest," announced Arthur firmly, leaning forward fractionally so that his sword pressed a little closer to the sorceress's back. "Do you deny kidnapping Princess Elsa of Arendelle and using sorcery to do so?"

The woman turned her head slightly, just enough so that Arthur could see her right cheek and just the tip of her eyelash – as well as the slight curve at the corner of her lip that betrayed a smile. "Kidnapping? Well, I certainly deny that. I did not kidnap Elsa, and having said that, there's no reason for me to waste any breath denying that I used sorcery to do it…"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, subconsciously shifting his feet beneath him. His bad feeling had grown into a nauseous pit in his stomach – he never liked it when his enemies smiled like that. "You are a _sorceress_ – we heard you speaking in the Old Religion."

"Well, that _is_ a surprise…"

Faster than humanely possible, the woman had whipped around, moving just out of the sword's reach; her eyes were burning gold before Arthur could begin to react. And then, it was _impossible_ for Arthur to react; his limbs were frozen, out of reach and unresponsive. A frantic glance around revealed the same for his knights; all were motionless, with their faces surprised and alarmed. Arthur felt his own eyes widen, his stomach dropping – _damn it!_

The sorceress backed away with graceful, fluid steps, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face. "…I wouldn't have thought that a Pendragon like you would have been able to tell the difference."

Another flash of gold, and Arthur's sword slipped effortlessly out of his grasp, floating to the ground at the sorceress's feet – twelve more silver blades followed, all lying themselves into a neat pile. He stared at the weapons with a clenched jaw, feeling like balling his fists if only he could – _I should have known, should have trusted my instincts. And now my men are going to pay for my mistake…_

"You remember what I've told you about the Pendragon family, don't you, Elsa?" The sorceress's smooth voice came again as she moved to stand closer to Elsa, trailing her fingers over the princess's shoulder. Elsa reacted slightly, flinching and turning her face towards the sorceress, though her eyes stayed unfocused and blank. "I told you what they're like."

"What do you want with her?" Arthur forced out through gritted teeth, scowling at the sorceress. "What have you done to her?"

The sorceress turned with a knowing smile on her lips. When Arthur caught sight of her gaze for the second time, he felt his blood run cold – there was something about those eyes that simply wasn't right, and yet they seemed to pull him in, offering calm and comfort. "Don't worry yourself over her. I only made sure that she wouldn't hurt herself – she would've, after all, if she'd gone back to you."

Arthur let out a tense breath through his nose. "You did kidnap her."

The sorceress shook her head, her smile growing. "No. She left on her own, actually. I probably wouldn't have ever even had needed to restrain her if only her little friend hadn't followed…but I didn't want Elsa to get the wrong idea."

The words were like having the earth beneath his feet disappear unexpectedly. "What?" Arthur's heart pounded in his ears, because on top of everything, _he didn't need this_. "What did you – what've you done with Merlin?" _Of course that idiot would follow her…_

The sorceress laughed, glancing at Elsa in a conspiratorial sort of way – though Elsa still didn't move. "Safe," she said lightly, the word sounding like it held a million different meanings. "Though it _is_ funny to see get so worked up over him. You didn't know that he'd followed her, though…strange how well the people close to you can keep a secret, isn't it?"

"What d'you mean, _safe_?"

"I mean, not dead. Which is lucky, as he had two elementalist sorceresses to go against…" The words didn't click. Arthur frowned in confusion, and it seemed that she could tell – her smile grew wider, and she tilted her head in amusement. "Oh, that's _right_ – you don't know about dear Elsa. You know, you really should find out more about your houseguests before you give them the run of your castle – you never know _what_ they might be hiding."

The sorceress turned away, looking Elsa in the eye; the princess's eyes moved slowly to meet the other woman's. Arthur felt his heart thumping in his chest, nervous anticipation flooding his senses. The sorceress leaned forward, whispering firmly to Elsa. "Show them, Elsa."

Elsa turned her head away again, pausing before lifting her hand out before her. Arthur felt the anxious nausea return as he watched the blonde, her delicate eyebrows pinching slightly as she stared at her hand. Was there some faint, almost invisible sign of struggle in the princess's eyes? Her hand was shaking, and Arthur could see her jaw being clenched. But the sorceress repeated her orders, a little louder, and Elsa's face smoothed again. She closed her eyes, and Arthur tensed, already knowing what to expect no matter how much he hoped it wasn't true –

A bright flash of blue filled the clearing, accompanied by a strangely metallic-sounding ring – from Elsa's outstretched hand shot a stream of bluish something, which spread and formed a jagged barrier right up to Arthur's feet, the toothy points coming uncomfortably close to him; for a moment he couldn't process it. But the sorceress laughed blatantly, and Elsa – _sorceress_, as well – let her hand fall slowly, her eyes still blank and unseeing.

"Ice," whispered the knight standing to Arthur's right, and Arthur glanced at him before turning back to the fruits of Elsa's efforts; the glistening, blade-like formation certainly _did_ look like ice. Arthur clenched his teeth harder, feeling his temple start to pound painfully.

"The _poor_ pendragons," the other sorceress said mockingly, taking a sashaying step forward. "Always in the dark, everything going over their head…I honestly do not know how your family has managed to keep Camelot's throne for so long. Surely mere luck can't be so beneficial…"

Arthur sighed heavily, wanting to pound something, wishing he still held his sword in hand. "What are you doing in _Camelot_, then?"

"You'll find out soon enough. It's partly for your benefit, after all…so why don't you just stay there and be quiet, while Elsa and I just finish up…and then you can be on merry way." The sorceress's dark eyes flitted around the circle of knights, all completely immobile. "Although, first…" She closed her eyes, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration. A second of silence, and then…a series of snapping and crackling sounds filled the air as the ground at each knight's feet was rent, with roots and vines emerging like the waving tentacles of an octopus. The waving arms wasted no time in wrapping themselves up the legs of Arthur and the knights, locking them into place. Gradually the roots slowed, stiffening, and suddenly Arthur felt his limbs being released – his arms fell limply to his sides, and he hunched over slightly, relieved to be able to move his torso again. But his calves and thighs were firmly tied into place.

"There – that ought to hold you," the dark-haired sorceress announced, already turning away. "Now, Elsa – after me…"

Her eyes glowed gold as she spoke the words, each echoing through the forest with a ring of power. "_Ic ásælan úre drýcræft æt mín hléoþcwideas. Úre afol diht néadhæs mín gewill."_

After a beat, Elsa opened her mouth and spoke as well – but her voice lacked the conviction, the force that the other sorceress spoke with. "_Ðu ásælan mín drýcræft æt úre hléoþcwideas. Mín afol diht néadhæs úre gewill._"

It continued on, each word sounding full of deadly potential and malice. Arthur strained as he tried to pull his legs free, but of course it was useless – the magic held him firmly in place.

"_Ic ásælan úre drýcræft æt mín hléoþcwideas. Úre afol diht néadhæs mín gewill_."

The knights around Arthur seemed just as frustrated, but after trying to break loose of the magic, they stopped struggling and just watched the two sorceresses helplessly. Arthur did as well, still sick and useless. What would his father think of this situation? That Arthur was unable to do anything to stop the blatant magic being done in front of him, not even an hour from Camelot? Arthur had the feeling that he'd somehow find something that Arthur _could _have done…and yet didn't. Arthur could find plenty of things he should have done…like keeping a closer eye on his idiotic manservant. _If he's hurt because of his stupid recklessness…_

Elsa's turn at speaking the words came slower, even more sluggish than before. "_Ðu ásælan mín drýcræft æt úre hléoþcwideas. Mín afol…" _Her voice faltered and died.

Arthur glanced up at her, frowning apprehensively – but Elsa's eyes were wide and clear. Her mouth hung open in a silent gasp, and her previously straight and collected stance had slumped. She turned, stumbling away from the other sorceress. "What are you…"

The dark-haired woman's eyes narrowed as she frowned in anger; all the while Arthur and the knights watched with wide eyes, only half-daring to hope. "Elsa –"

But Elsa ducked away from her, looking around at the circle of restrained knights with dawning horror. "What've you…"But the next words were by far the worst she could have said. "No – _Merlin_!"

* * *

**So, there you are! I hope that everyone's enjoying. Please leave a review and tell me what you think! Also, for those spells, I used an Old English translator, but I did it word-by-word, so I'm not entirely sure that it came out exactly correct – as in, fluent in Old English. Does anyone know of any translator pages that will translate whole sentences from English to Old English for you? And here are the translations for those two spells, just because it's not exactly made clear here…**

"**Ic ásælan úre drýcræft æt mín hléoþcwideas. Úre afol diht néadhæs mín gewill." (Dezyra's spell): I bind your magic to my words. Your strength shall obey my will**

**Ðu ásælan mín drýcræft æt úre hléoþcwideas. Mín afol diht néadhæs úre gewill." (Elsa's spell): You bind my magic to your words. My strength shall obey your will.**

**So…there's a little clue for you on where all this is headed…kind of. Anyway, hope you liked this – have a nice day! :D**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	20. The Price

**Just blame exams. Or college, or education, or maybe Labor Day Weekend – blame Real Life. It wasn't my fault! But I'm sorry – I fail, I know. **

**And even though I consistently fail, you guys never do! Thanks for all the reviews and support once again – you guys are awesome, and all your kind words mean the world to me. Thank you! Oh and also – an anonymous reviewer said that they'd found this story only because the title is A Tale of Fire and Ice, and they thought it was related to A Game of Thrones. Well, as all of you probably know by now – it's not. Sorry for the disappointment, and incidentally, no – when I decided on the title, it was without any thought of the GoT series in mind. Fire is Merlin, Ice is Elsa. That's pretty much it. But, just curious – did any of you guys start reading this just because of the title sounding a bit like a Song of Ice and Fire? Following with you being immensely disappointed, but resigned to read this anyway? Just curious. **

**Off-topic. Well anyway. In compensation for my updating-on-time-lack-of-successfulness, you get an epic chapter where a lot of crap happens. A lot. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Twenty: The Price**

"No – _Merlin_!"

Elsa's mind was still fog and darkness, as if she were tied to the bottom of a deep lake – but now, there was a beam of light, an icy gust of fresh air amidst a sea of that warm, dank _calm_; like a shrill whistle cutting through the low din of everything else. It was just as clear and potent as when it had first ripped through the fog, moments before – pressing and calling for attention so abruptly and suddenly. It didn't matter why, or how – it was there. She could focus on it. She could wake up.

_Merlin_. Memories were useless – just more blurs of sound and image to sort through – but she didn't need them; she could _feel_ him. His magic, his emotions – close by and far away at the same time. She could _sense_ it. Their connection – some strange, unexplainable link – was the only thing that could anchor her conscious mind to the world, saving her from being completely buried underneath that suffocating, hypnotizing calm. All of Dezyra's words from before – _liar, killer, hate _– fell away from association with Merlin as she focused on that clarity. _No_.

But he – Merlin – was out of reach. She felt exhaustion, frustration, pain – she could see the darkness, the pale glimmers of light that just barely offered reference in that tiny space – she knew the constricting feeling of having your magic stifled, within your grasp but _not_.

Merlin was trapped, in danger. It was her fault.

Dezyra's voice kept pouring over her, trying to smother the spark of awareness – Elsa couldn't fully ignore the words. "Elsa, listen to me. You know that they're your enemies. They'd see you burnt. Merlin is the same. They're your enemies, but I'm your friend! You know that."

_Just noise_. Elsa felt herself falling to her knees as she tried – _focus_ – that light that was Merlin kept slipping away, gone like water in your hands. _Merlin. Merlin!_ "Stop it –" She clenched her teeth, scowling at Dezyra, hovering nearby.

Dezyra didn't relent. "Elsa," she said firmly, her voice a perfect mix of everything that Elsa could relax into, wonderfully content – "You and I have a job to do. We can rid the world of people like them – all of them. That's all I want to do. It'll be safe for people like us, people who have magic – we'll never have to hid or be ashamed of who we are. _They _won't ever again hurt us, or any of our kind. You and I can get rid of all of them."

There was real passion in her words, a real desire to fulfill that dream of hers – it went even deeper than the calming cooperation that Dezyra's voice usually instilled. But this time, Elsa didn't even feel that compulsion to agree and obey – it was Dezyra's _words_ that registered, not just her voice of authority – and Elsa heard this time. Really heard. What was wrong with that idealistic speech? Elsa stared into Dezyra's deep brown eyes, not tempted to vanish into their depths – just watching, examining, studying, this time.

_You and I can get rid of all of them. _

All of them. _All_…Elsa almost felt the impact that a lifetime of memories made on her mind as she pushed aside the events of the past few days, only having to look that far. _All_ of them? How could she have been so selfish, so self-centered as to not even think of _them_?

Arendelle. A whole kingdom of people, probably tearing itself apart looking for her. _Anna_. What might she be doing just then? _How could I put all of them completely out of my mind?_

That night she'd run away, so carelessly and selfishly – it seemed like an entire lifetime ago – Elsa had only thought of her pain, her suffering in Arendelle and her worries about the future. She hadn't cared. She'd thought that this world, this place that she was lost in, would somehow be better. Was it? Here she was, just a few days later – three? four? how could so little time have passed? – with another sorceress trying to convince her – control her – to 'get rid' of all of them?

Elsa took a slow breath, watching Dezyra's face as the other woman stared back intently. Waiting for the sign that she'd given in, probably.

_That won't happen. _

Elsa stood, her eyes never leaving Dezyra's. The silence was so thick, you could almost taste it – even the ring of knights standing tethered to the earth around the two sorceresses were quiet, just watching with expressions varying from interest to anger to fear.

"All of them?" said Elsa quietly, tilting her head to the side. So soft that you could mistake it for the tone of someone who was giving in, trying to see a threat as a bargain on their end.

Half of Dezyra's smile returned, lifting the corner of her lip. "Every last one," promised Dezyra fervently, her hair rippling with the force of her words. "We'll never be out of place, never have to feel alone –"

Elsa blinked slowly, turning her head away from Dezyra – the other woman tapered off. Elsa took deep breaths, already wary about losing her temper – she had to have her emotions under complete control, or she'd wind up like Merlin had. _Merlin_. The thought stirred up even more anger in her chest, burning to be released, but Elsa waited.

"All of them," repeated Elsa again, finally raising her head to meet Dezyra's eyes – confused for the first time. "Even the ones who never did anything to hurt me. What about Arendelle? What about my _sister_? What about all the people who are victims as much as we are – what about _them_? You want to 'get rid' of them too?" An early memory, but still as vivid as if it had happened yesterday, flashed through her mind – Anna, a tiny little girl, leaping from a mound of snow and falling as Elsa's ice jetted off her head. Anna, always trying to help and understand and make things better – what about _that_?

Dezyra straightened, drawing herself up and frowning, seeming to be doing some quick thinking – from the corner of her eye, Elsa saw Dezyra's right hand twitch, as if itching to send some spell at Elsa too. And at that same instant – a distant wave of panic and exhaustion, washing over her but not quite touching; Elsa stiffened, eyes darting to the mound of fresh earth by her feet. _I have to get him out_.

"You were lying about him too, weren't you," said Elsa, her voice cold; it wasn't a question. "Merlin doesn't hate me, and he was never trying to kill me. _You're_ the one that doesn't care." She spared half a second's glance at the knights from Camelot standing around, struggling to free themselves – how much did they know? Would Merlin's association with her, obviously known to be a sorceress, hurt him? – but there wasn't time to waste worrying. _I have to get him out!_

Dezyra's eyes had turned into hard, cold flint; there was no attempt at a smile, no more pretenses. She tilted up her chin and scoffed, shaking her head. "You're a fool," said Dezyra dismissively – her hand moved up – her eyes glowed gold.

"_No_!"

It was like a dam breaking – there was nothing even attempting to hold her magic back. Whatever spell Dezyra had been attempting dissipated, forgotten, as the world exploded into fragments of blue and silver – Elsa's hands were up, eyes narrowed, but all she could feel was that wonderful flowing _cold_ in her chest that meant that finally, _she_ was in control. Beams, shards, columns of ice crystalized and spiraled into existence, smashing and rippling as they tried to make contact with Dezyra – but her arms had been thrown up as well, palms facing the sky as if she were supporting an invisible shield over herself; all Elsa's ice crumpled and shattered upon touching that shield, fading away. The scene was overwhelming, so much that Elsa must have subconsciously distanced herself from it – the sounds of shattering ice, crashing forces and stifled shouts merged into a rushing in her ears, matched perfectly by the whirl of colors and shapes flying by.

Despite the rush – the pounding of her heart and the lack of air in her lungs – Elsa was _enjoying_ this.

The earth rippled with a glance from Dezyra – _of course, earth, that's her_ – and from the corner of her eye, Elsa saw the magical roots that had fastened the knights to the earth swelling and tightening, much to the dismay of the men; they cried out, but the voices were all just a rush in her ears.

"No!" Elsa shouted without thinking, scowling as she threw a hand in the direction of the knights. "You won't hurt anyone else –" A thought later, ice – a frosty, crystallized version of her earlier displays – was stealing over the brown roots, hardening into a cold shell; within seconds, the roots began to wither and loosen their grip on the knights. Elsa barely had time to take in their expressions – shock and distrust, seeming torn between being grateful or hateful – before she had to turn back to Dezyra, forcing her power back onto the sorceress.

Dezyra – merely standing and watching, showing no sign of strain from shielding herself – fixed her hypnotic gaze on Elsa, shaking her head and beginning to laugh. "Oh, my," scoffed Dezyra, smiling ironically in what seemed to be genuine humor. "You know, this really is comical. Look at you – defending the Pendragons. Fate does have a sense of humor."

Elsa shook her head slightly, setting her jaw. "I won't listen to your lies," said Elsa stiffly, glaring – it was a promise to both Dezyra and herself.

But Dezyra paid no mind. "Do you know why I sent you here, to Camelot, of all places? It was because I wanted to test you. I needed to know, you see, if you were strong enough for my purposes – by sending you here, and ensuring that you would run into a Camelot patrol, I could be sure that you would likely be discovered as a sorceress and that they'd try and arrest you, execute you. If they succeeded, then you _weren't_ strong enough – but if you got _away_, killing any number of Camelot's knights in the process…then I'd know. That was the plan." Dezyra tilted her head, her smile widening – Elsa watched with wide eyes, her vow forgotten, as she listened, feeling sick.

"But no," continued the sorceress, her eyes glinting. "No – you weren't _captured_, and you didn't get away. You went _home_ with them! They nursed you back to health and practically took you in – goes to show you just how blind the Pendragons can be. And now, here you are – protecting _them_ and defending _them_, the _innocent_. Do you think that they'll thank you? Or maybe you know better, by now."

Elsa knew that she shouldn't listen – all Dezyra said was a lie, cleverly crafted to benefit herself. But these words were the story of what had actually happened – they gave her answers this time – and she knew that even with all her lies, what Dezyra was saying now was probably true. The Pendragons and the people of Camelot wouldn't thank her – they'd only condemn her to death, if they could. Tearing her eyes away from Dezyra, Elsa turned to look at the knights from Camelot – they stood in a group about fifty feet away, watching uneasily and seeming ready to flee. _Why haven't they left yet?_ Probably waiting to see which of them would lose this fight – Elsa or Dezyra – and ready to arrest and execute her.

But it didn't matter. "I don't care," said Elsa as she looked back to Dezyra, lifting her chin defiantly. "It doesn't matter. They never hurt me – maybe they would, if they could. But so far you're the only one who's tried, and you're the only one who wants to hurt the people that I care about. I won't let you."

Dezyra paused, sighing slightly, as she opened her mouth and looked down. "…Fine."

Elsa frowned – she examined the woman intently, looking for the lie, the joke – Dezyra looked up slowly, revealing cruel resolve. "Fine, Elsa. Protect them, stay with them. You know what they say – choose your enemies with care, and choose your friends with even more. So choose them. I don't need you." She shook her head calmly, standing motionless.

In the quiet moment that followed, Elsa's gaze flickered – her gaze flitted to the mound of freshly sliced earth, thinking _Merlin_ – she forced her eyes back to Dezyra, but the sorceress had seen.

"Oh, _yes_ – we mustn't forget about dear _Merlin_," drawled Dezyra, smirking again. "I don't think you'll be seeing him again."

"No!" Her heart jumped into her throat – Elsa started forward, her hands lifting but without a spell or cause to guide them. Dezyra's eyes were golden – some distant part of Elsa's mind registered the shouts from the knights behind her, sounding angry and defensive – but Elsa had already turned to the earth, thrusting her hands out and sending forth the magic. _Hurry_!

The ice forced the earth to rent itself apart, revealing a deep and dark chasm. Dezyra was laughing again, but Elsa ignored her – she frowned, clenching her teeth in exertion as she tried to focus and find that light again. Dezyra's calm tried to tug at her – she could feel the power like a dark cloud, hovering around her – but Elsa shut her eyes, focusing and filling her mind with nothing but her goal. _Merlin! Merlin! Merlin – _

She almost lost it – the light was barely there anymore, almost extinguished – but then –

_Elsa?_

* * *

Merlin had stopped trying to melt the ice, and had stopped trying to displace the earth – it was useless, he knew. Anything he tried, any attempt at breaking free, always turned out to be in vain. Ice and earth apparently trumped fire – and there was nothing he could do.

But he had to do _something_. Out there somewhere, above this prison he was in, Elsa was probably in trouble – with Dezyra, being fed lies about the world. That put everything in danger – even Camelot and Arthur, which he had to protect, above anything else. To do that, he had to get out of here, before he really was suffocated.

Merlin was beginning to get the feeling that this place, built with the combination of two opposing elemental powers, was doing more than just keeping his magic in check. As he laid there, thinking and worrying, he began to notice a strange numbness to his fingers and feet – the cold feeling you get when those appendages fall asleep while the rest of you is still awake. Merlin shook out his hands, flexing his fingers and toes – but the feeling refused to fade. That was when he began wondering. There was also a growing shortness of breath, increasing so gradually that he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been paying attention – but it was there, and no matter how many deep breaths he gasped, it refused to fade.

His head started pounding in a piercing headache – he was panting, gasping in short breaths that went nowhere because of the suffocating pressure on his chest – _earth and ice outweigh fire, they're putting out the magic, well I'm magic too so maybe they're putting me out_ – his mind raced to form some theory, some answer that might help to relieve the pressure, but the darkness was getting darker –

_Merlin!_

The voice burst into his mind on its own, as clearly as if she was shouting into his ear – it was Elsa. Merlin's heart pounded as he tried to breath, shocked by the flow of emotions and images that flooded his mind – that _connection_ was back, grasping his mind and bridging it to hers. Fear, anger, worry – _worry for him_ – a laughing in the background, and an icy river flowing through the chest – Merlin focused his strength and thought her name as loudly as he could.

_Elsa? _

The flow froze, but it hadn't disappeared – it had only quieted, intensified, listening as intently as he was.

Finally – _Merlin?_

The thought was filled with bewilderment, concern, and panic – all blending together with an enormous relief sounding almost like a sob.

Merlin had to force his flitting mind to focus, trying to ignore the discomfort that was now bordering on outright pain. _Elsa – you have to get me out of here, I can't breathe –_

Her thoughts were frantic. _I'm so sorry – it was Dezyra, she was controlling me but I'm free now – but she's trying to kill you, I've got to get you out –_

_I know – I think it's the magic, the two elements of ice and earth that's stopping mine from working – you've got to hurry…_

The _connection_ was dimming as Merlin's thoughts meandered from his grasp – the pressure on his chest started to dim too, but that was only because he couldn't remember how to feel, or breathe, or think. His eyes were almost flickered shut when –

Light, so bright that it sparked a semblance of pain in his eyes, snapped into place, shining through the shards of ice that crisscrossed overhead to create a bluish overtone; suddenly the ice was melting – no, it was liquefying, turning fluid and mobile as the deadly-looking spikes molded themselves into a more friendly-looking spiral shape, circling the tunnel that led up to the light and pressing against it, widening it – Merlin watched all this through half-open eyelids, and felt a tiny flare of alarm. Not because of what was happening, but because of his lack of response to what was happening.

_Merlin! I can't do this alone – I need your help!_

Her voice cut through his fading consciousness, and he heard the panic and fear – he heard the _need_.

_Elsa…_

A groan tore itself from his body as he forced himself to prop himself up on his elbows – sit – crouch – a wave of lightheaded-ness almost overwhelmed him, sending black spots across his vision. _Move_. He lifted a shaking hand – he tried to remember the spell, but only a vague sound could be recalled, so he just _thought_ – a golden haze filled the space around him, the brightness faltering but _focusing_ – the magic gave him an anchor.

_What do you want me to do?_

Elsa's thoughts were only half-there – she was focusing on something else, busy, but still she sent hurried instructions. _Just get out of there! Climb on the ice – you have to get out before Dezyra overwhelms me. I can barely hold the earth back –_

Merlin moved in a haze – he stood, all too aware of the clamped tightness of his chest that probably meant that something was very wrong. The ice didn't even feel cold under his pale, trembling hands – probably bad too. His arms didn't want to work – they felt dead, detached from his mind. Still, he wrenched himself up the framework of ice, letting his head fall back – above was an ever-narrowing tunnel, rising up for what seemed like hundreds of feet before it finally opened to a blue-and-green sky. _Climb._

His vision was grey around the edges. _Hurry_. Another few feet higher, then another. The golden haze rose with him. A few rungs of the ice-ladder later, it slipped – flickered – disappeared. Suddenly the world was much more grey and bleak-looking – he didn't bother to try and bring the gold back. _Climb_.

– _Merlin, hurry! – _

He wanted to think back_, I'm trying_, but the words refused to form. Just a weary feeling of plodding resolve, which was starting to fail him too. How long had he gone without air now? Five minutes? Eight? He probably should be dead already. His magic had a funny way of making the things he _should_ be, _not_…

Higher, higher – now his arms were beginning to feel again, and it certainly wasn't a good thing. They _ached_ – he felt himself slip, distantly, and even more so, he pulled himself back up – _how, why, can I?_

_Up_. The cold burned his hands. The cold burned his chest too – his lungs were on fire with the icy coldness. Not Elsa's ice – the ice of something else. Maybe death, reaching out to him. _No_…Was he still moving? Suddenly he realized that he had stopped – with force that should have been enough to shift a mountain, Merlin forced his arms to budge, reaching for the next ring of ice.

_I can't…_

Everything was slowing –

A flame of warmth touched his hand, and when he opened his eyes to see Elsa's face, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever gazed.

She clamped both of her delicate hands around his reaching one, straining back to pull him up, her lips moving but making no sound – in fact everything was silent, Merlin realized, as if his mind had decided to stop listening to conserve strength – but a moment later, he felt his body lifted completely free of the well he'd been in, even as he glimpsed his surroundings. All in a split-second – Elsa crouching over him, grasping his hand and searching his face frantically; Dezyra standing a few paces off, her expression angry, shocked, frustrated, but still superior; Arthur, in chainmail with his red cape slung over his shoulder, crouching on Merlin's other side and looking at Elsa with an expression split between gratitude and repulsion; a group of knights in the background, looking very unsure of themselves. All this he saw in a fraction of a second, not even bothering to try and make sense of anything.

A second later, the pressure lifted, and he felt his lungs flood with air.

It was both the best and the worst feeling ever – the air was like the sweetest of nectars, flowing into his chest with each of his deep, uncontrollable gasps. But with it came a spike of pain – almost worse than the pressure. The sound popped back into existence as he started coughing, choking on his gasps; he felt hands supporting him, and heard voices that took a moment to go from meaningless sound to words.

"…forgive you for this. I won't let you go back into the world and find someone else to hurt." Elsa's voice – emotional, irrational. "It's people like you that give magic and its users such a bad reputation! People like you _deserve_ to be killed." Angry.

"You really think that you can stop me?" The smooth voice of Dezyra this time, sounding almost amused – but with an undercurrent of wariness.

"I _know_ that you can't defeat all of us."

With every breath, Merlin was getting a better grasp of what was going on – and every breath intensified the feeling of dread in his stomach. He forced himself into a sitting position, shaking his head as his vision darkened again – a hand reached out to steady him, and Merlin's heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of Arthur, his face stricken and angry. _What's he doing here?_ But he didn't have time to try and formulate a story that could explain this away.

"Elsa," said Merlin, his voice scraping his throat painfully and sounding just as painful – she turned to look at him, her angry frown softening as she saw his face. _Don't…now's not the time._

Audibly she breathed out heavily through her nose, and through her mind she said, _No! Look what she's done! She almost killed you – she almost killed those knights, and almost made me do something terrible – she can't be allowed to go free and do more damage –_

_We can't defeat her. Not right now…._

His expression pleaded, but he already knew – Elsa turned away, standing with a huff as her fists clenched tightly. Through his mind, Merlin could feel her emotions – still fear and lingering panic, but overall, a boiling, churning ball of rage.

Elsa lifted a hand towards Dezyra, and she tensed as she got ready to use her magic – beside him, Arthur flinched, his hand twitching towards the hilt of his sword – and all the while, Dezyra stayed motionless. Merlin could feel the power building up inside Elsa, ready to break loose –

"Stop."

They froze – Dezyra held a palm up loosely, but her voice was iron.

"You won't stop me, and you won't kill me – and you won't come after me," said Dezyra calmly. "No, Elsa. You won't. Because if you do…then she won't ever see the light of day again."

Dezyra's hand twitched, and her eyes glowed – suddenly a cloud of mist collected in the air beside her, swirling, and on that mist formed an image of a dark and familiar place – another prison in the earth, Merlin could see; just as dark and tight as his had been. A faint light glowed inside, just enough to illuminate a face – a girl with orange-red hair, bound into two tight braids with a single stripe of white-blonde spiraling through the right-handed one. Her eyes were closed and her face was calm – but she was anything but safe.

The image filled Merlin with dismay – but a second later, it was pure horror that filled him, emanating from Elsa.

The princess stood hunched over, her arms tight around herself; she moaned miserably as she stared up at the swirling image. But through their thoughts, Merlin could _feel_ her – all she felt was a spiraling, sinking agony, horror and self-contempt, mixed with nausea and anger. "Anna," whispered Elsa as she sank to her knees, and Dezyra smiled.

"She was looking for you," said the witch simply, before smirking with a gold glint in her eye; a wind picked up, lifting a spiral of leaves and twigs into the air, hiding Dezyra from view; the tornado rushed for a moment before subsiding, fading into silence – she was gone.

**So – for those of you who might have been wondering where the heck Anna had disappeared to – that's where. Did I say a crap-load of stuff would happen, or didn't I? Well, hope you liked – please review and tell me what you thought! Questions – comments – compliments – criticism – all is greatly appreciated. =)**

**Next time – explanations. Arthur gets mad, at a lot of stuff. Merlin has a lot of convincing to do, and fails at some of it. Things like that. Anyway, thanks for reading! I'm sorry again for not keeping up. Hopefully, this time next week...well, we'll see. Thank you! Have a nice day :)**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	21. Judgement

**Hello there! And sorry, again, because I know - I totally fail at this. Seems like we're kind of stuck at the every-two-weeks updating thing. Ugh. I really do try, but my schedule keeps insisting on being terrible and so...yeah, excuses. I'm sorry. I guess another reason is that I've recently finished watching the Daredevil series on Netflix by Marvel, which is SO SO GOOD but also very graphic so watch out if you're interested, and so I've been drowning myself in fanfiction for that show. Seriously, that show is probably the best series I've ever seen. Not to betray Merlin or anything, but...the quality is just **_**perfect**_**. So. I'll probably get around to writing fanfiction for that soon, but only after finishing this! Or something. Anyway. Enjoy!**

_**EDIT 1/30/16**_**: I made a minor edit to this in order to open up to the next chapter better. Literally just three more lines at the bottom as well as a little addition to a paragraph a few lines up. If you really want to be completely up to speed, then just re-read the last page or so. =) **

**Chapter Twenty-One: Judgement**

The whirl from that last of magic took a moment to fade – the leaves on the ground still sifted around in a vague circular motion, not sure where to go. Arthur stared at them, feeling too shocked to do anything other than preserve the silence that filled the clearing.

_Damn it. _

He lifted his head to glance around steadily, taking note of its appearance. Elsa was crouched on the ground a few feet away, her arms wrapped around her knees, as she rocked slightly, her eyes shut tight. Arthur looked away quickly, because the sight of her was far too conflicting. _Too many labels. Sorceress, enemy, help, friend?_

Merlin was still sprawled on the ground, propped up on his elbow as he watched Elsa with a sad and worried expression on his face – still far too pale for Arthur's liking. _Idiot_.

A few paces off, the knight were all gathered in an extremely uneasy group, seeming unsure that the danger was actually over – their swords were drawn, and they shot sharp glances around at the surrounding forest. Arthur shook his head slowly. Is_ the danger really over?_

And then, of course, there were the lingering traces of the battle that had gone on between Elsa and Dezyra – a truly terrifying match. The roots that had grown to entangle themselves around Arthur and the knights lay dead and withered; meanwhile a faint and rapidly melting dusting of snow and crushed ice gave the ground a whitish tint. Undeniable evidence, even if Arthur had had the faintest urge to deny that Elsa was actually a sorceress. As if.

The thought caused a sudden wave of frustration to well up inside him. _Damn it_.

He stood up stiffly, turning again to cast a glance at his knights – they all met his eyes with their wide ones, silently asking for direction. Arthur swore again, under his breath, and then quickly knelt down, grasping Merlin's arm and heaving the frail-looking man to his feet.

Merlin swayed on his feet, breathing deeply, and turned to look at Arthur with wide, uncertain eyes. "Arthur – how did –?"

Arthur let a heavy breath escape through his nostrils, meeting Merlin's eyes with a flat stare. "Are you alright?"

Merlin blinked, his face seeming even paler, if that were possible. Arthur felt a twinge of guilt – _he just almost died, go easy_ – but his frustration overrode that emotion. "Uh – yeah, I guess – er, I'm fine." Merlin stuttered, ducking his head. His right arm hung loosely at his side, and Arthur observed his fist, clenched and shaking.

_Fine_. Right.

"Then get over there with the knights. We're heading back to Camelot."

Merlin didn't move. "Arthur – what are you going to –?"

Arthur clenched his jaw, turning to Merlin with flashing eyes. "_Merlin_. Do you think you could just do what you're supposed to? For once?" The servant recoiled slightly, frowning; Arthur continued his rant in angry exasperation, knowing that he'd probably regret it. "You do realize what you've done? If I didn't know better, I'd have to say that you were collaborating with them. And you were almost _killed_. I mean, I thought that even idiots had their limits, but –" He sighed heavily. "Just go and do as you're told." _Stop trying to get yourself killed or…_

Merlin just shifted his weight and set his jaw. "What are you going to do?" He turned, glancing over at Elsa – still sitting motionless, seeming in shock after Dezyra's last actions – before turning back to Arthur, resolute.

_Ah, damn it_. Arthur hated it when Merlin did this. Not because it was disrespectful – which it was – or because of how everyone always told him how disrespectful it was of Merlin, later – although he did hate that, as well. But he really hated it because whenever this happened, Merlin would turn out to be right. He'd give Arthur that resolute stare and argue and plead, and Arthur would ignore him, and then something would happen, and it'd turn out that Merlin had been right all along.

Arthur placed his hands on his hips, shutting his eyes tightly, and noted that he was getting a headache. "She's a sorceress." His voice was deliberately lower – so that Elsa couldn't hear. And maybe, the knights wouldn't hear either. They'd say that there was no reason that Arthur should explain his reasons to Merlin, a servant. Because there wasn't one.

Merlin tilted his head, raising his eyebrows. "She was protecting us. She's the reason I'm still alive – without her, Dezyra probably would have killed all of us."

_Here we go_. Arthur sighed again, letting his head fall back. "Yes. And she's also the reason that any of us are here in the first place. She lied to us, in Camelot – and anyway, it doesn't _matter_. She's a _sorceress_."

"But – you can't just _arrest_ her. She could've decided to join Dezyra at any time – I know that she was trying to convince her. And instead, Elsa risked her life to help us. And this is how you're going to repay her?"

"_Yes_," bit out Arthur, forcing his voice to stay quiet. "When they're sorceresses. You do realize that she was on the other woman's side, at first? She was _helping_ her."

Merlin crossed his arms stubbornly. "Dezyra was controlling her. She tried – she can make people do things they don't want to. Elsa was fighting against her."

"And you know so much about this?" asked Arthur angrily, feeling himself getting more and more worked up. Merlin obviously did know a lot about this, and it wasn't at all a good thing. He thought back to how Merlin had spoken to Elsa after she and Arthur pulled him out of that dark well – Merlin had said just a word, just her name. _Elsa_. The looks that passed between them was like an entire conversation, conveyed in silence. Not at all a good thing. _Idiotic, trusting Merlin…_another memory flashed through his mind – Merlin, sitting by Elsa's bedside in Gaius's chambers, intently staring at her sleeping form, not noticing Arthur walking silently into the room. _Merlin, I hope you realize that when I said to keep an eye on her, I didn't mean quite such a close and intent one._ No, not good.

He had to get this over with, get his naïve manservant away from all this. He set his jaw, shifting as he started towards Elsa. "We're taking her back to Camelot. The king has to know about all of this."

Merlin started in surprise, following after Arthur and stumbling over whatever he was going to say. "You –"

Arthur drew his sword swiftly, walking up to Elsa – giving her a few feet's berth – and held the blade at his side – just so that it was not loose, but there, ready. Elsa didn't even look up. Behind him, Merlin sputtered.

"_Arthur – _what are you –"

Arthur ignored Merlin, speaking loudly over him. "Elsa – princess – you're under arrest for the use of magic in Camelot. We're taking you back to the city, so the king can decide your fate." His voice was solid and smooth, unfaltering – good. It was the opposite of what he was feeling.

The blond princess huddled on the ground just shuddered, shaking her head. "It's all my fault…" The words were so faint, Arthur almost missed them.

_Great_. Now what was he supposed to do? Drag the crying, accused princess back to Camelot?

A motion of black and tan flashed by Arthur's shoulder, too quick for him to react – all of the sudden Merlin was crouching down by Elsa, a look of intense sadness and pity evident on his face. Arthur gaped at him, a scowl growing on his face – what was he _doing_? "_Merlin_ –" Arthur growled, but Merlin just glanced up in irritation.

"_What_?"

_Merlin, you're such an idiot…an endearing, clueless idiot who's surely going to get himself killed one day in a triumphing act of stupidity. _But Arthur found himself going silent, watching as Merlin spoke quiet words of comfort to Elsa.

Elsa raised her head after a moment, revealing red eyes full of pain. "She's got Anna…and it's all my fault. Everything." Her voice caught on a sob.

Arthur rocked on his heels, feeling quite useless. He thought back to how the sorceress – Dezyra – had conjured the mist with the picture of the redheaded girl, asleep and buried. It wasn't a very pleasant thought. Was she dead? Held hostage by Dezyra? _Who_ was she?

Apparently, Merlin didn't know either. "Who is Anna?" His voice was soft and understanding – Arthur again felt a twinge of uneasiness.

Elsa's face crumpled. "My sister."

After a moment of silence, Merlin sighed. "Is she…does she have magic, too?"

Arthur watched Elsa's face suspiciously, but there was no trace of a lie. "No…no, she never – she doesn't even know that _I_ have magic. She – I n-never told her anything. I should have….it's all m-my fault." A lone tear traced its way down Elsa's pale face.

Merlin lowered his eyes before tilting his head up to look at Arthur – eyebrows raised, he held Arthur's gaze with a pointed look. Arthur wasn't entirely sure what if was for, but he got the meaning just fine. _There's more than just the guilt of one sorceress at stake here_. Anyway, the thought of an innocent girl, completely free from any knowledge of the magic her sister possessed, sent a feeling of nausea through Arthur.

"We'll figure it out." Merlin's voice, quiet and kind, before he grasped her forearms gently and pulled her to her feet. Elsa swayed on her feet like a reed in a storm, wrapping her arms around her torso tightly, and stared blankly ahead. Merlin gave her a fleeting, hopeful smile before stepping closer to Arthur, his expression changing to one of appealing innocence. He spoke to Arthur in a low voice – starting in on the persuasion. "Look at her. She's not a threat to anybody."

Arthur matched Merlin's tone, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "She's a threat as long as she has magic. And you should've seen how she and the other sorceress were fighting with their powers – it was definitely pretty threatening." The thought made Arthur begin to feel uneasy again. What was he doing, feeling _sorry_ for a sorceress?

Merlin didn't budge. "She was fighting on our side – _against_ Dezyra. That's like saying that your knights are threatening-looking when they fight – it's not a bad thing."

Arthur hated Merlin's reasoning, he really did. "That's completely irrelevant. Look, Merlin, she's a _sorceress_. She uses _magic_. That makes her untrustworthy, no matter what she's done."

Merlin bit his lip, his eyes flitting back to Elsa for a split second. "I trust her," said Merlin quietly, his eyes flickering.

For a second, Arthur just stared at Merlin. Then he grabbed him by the arm roughly and yanked him away, striding a few yards away from Elsa and out of earshot of everyone else there. Merlin yelped and tried to pull out of Arthur's grasp, but Arthur ignored his efforts, fuming; he deliberately avoided the eyes of the knights, who still stood with uncertainty, and Elsa's inquisitive gaze – was she worried? _Even better_.

Finally Arthur stopped and spun Merlin around to face him, scowling. "What is wrong with you?"

Merlin rubbed his arm where Arthur had grabbed him so roughly, a wounded look on his face. "What's wrong with _me_? Other than the fact that you treat me like a rag doll…"

"Well, if you started acting a little smarter than one, then I wouldn't have to," retorted Arthur with narrowed eyes. He took a breath and leveled his gaze. "You _trust_ her." As little incredulity as possible went into those words – still, Arthur couldn't help but sound a little doubtful.

Merlin swallowed slowly, blowing out his breath. "Yes," he said finally – defiant, but also pleading.

Arthur bit the inside of his mouth, hard, as he resisted the urge to shake his servant. Or strangle him. Or just scream. "How in the – no, nevermind. Just – tell me what happened. From the beginning. How in the world you got mixed up with all of this…"

Merlin gaped at him for a second, before looking away and casting his gaze around aimlessly, gathering his words. "It just…I, um. Well, I guess…when she first woke up, and Gaius said that she could stay in one of the guest chambers if she wanted to…and he told me to escort her there. I – she seemed really confused, and upset, but I didn't want to pry so I just told her to ask for me if she needed anything. But I was worried, so at the end of the day I went back…but I didn't want to bother her…so I just kind of hung around, outside her chambers, for a while."

Arthur had to fight back the sudden, inexplicable urge to laugh. He could just see a shy, awkward Merlin standing aimlessly outside of Elsa's chambers for half the night. Rolling his eyes, he prompted Merlin through a half-grin. "So, in the middle of your stake-out of Elsa's chambers, Dezyra showed and actually kidnapped her."

Merlin shot him a confused look, shaking his head. "No – um, Elsa just left. I don't know exactly when – I fell asleep – but I woke up when she was closing her chamber door. And – well, I was worried, so I followed her down…um, down to the courtyard and out of the city. She stopped at a lake, and then I finally came out and asked her what she was doing."

Arthur was staring at Merlin with an incredulous look. "How in the world did the both of you get out of the castle without anyone noticing?" Arthur asked, feeling a bit put out. Perhaps Elsa, a sorceress – but _Merlin_? That wasn't very comforting.

A half-smile crossed Merlin's face as he gave Arthur a slightly patronizing look. "The nighttime security isn't exactly the greatest at Camelot, Arthur."

Arthur stared dubiously. "Evidently not," muttered Arthur finally, shaking his head. "But anyway, what gave you the bright idea that you could just wander off – following her all the way out here? Why didn't you come to me?"

Merlin sighed. "If I'd gone to you, she would've already been out of the city before you were even dressed. And besides – would you really have sacrificed an entire night's sleep just because I told you I was worried about Elsa going for a midnight stroll? I kind of doubt it."

Arthur couldn't deny that he had a point. "Fine. So…"

"So…we talked for a while, but she didn't want me to stay. She said that I could get hurt, and she didn't want to put anyone in danger, and finally she told me it was because of her magic. She – um, she was born with it, and kept it hidden all her life. Even from her sister…" Merlin lowered his gaze, his voice trailing off sadly.

Arthur's incredulous frown just kept growing. "Right. She tells you that she has magic. And then you just sit down and share life stories." His voice hardened – he couldn't help it. Had Merlin actually lost his mind? _What is wrong with that idiot?_ "Did you – have you ever listened to a _single_ _word_ that anyone ever spoke to you about magic? What on earth were you _thinking_?"

Merlin blinked, taken aback. "I – she just –" He faltered and looked down, not looking particularly sorry – more like, cornered and indignant. "She was scared, and didn't want to hurt anyone – and I thought…" Finally he just shook his head, not meeting Arthur's eyes.

Arthur pursed his lips in anger, rolling his eyes. "Of all the –" He jerked his head tersely. "You are truly unbelievable. We're taking her back to Camelot. No arguing."

"But –"

"And you're going to learn to actually _listen_."

"But – if we take her back to Camelot, what then? How are we going to fight Dezyra and save Anna? And how would Uther even deal with this anyway? Elsa's a _princess_ – he can't just have her executed. That would mean war for Camelot." Merlin spoke hurriedly, probably so that Arthur wouldn't have a chance to talk over him again.

Arthur almost wished he could just cover his ears and not listen. _It always happens this way…_ "The king will deal with this however he sees fit," replied Arthur haughtily, ignoring his own unease at the situation. It wasn't exactly every day that Camelot had visiting dignitaries who got kidnapped and then turned out to be secret sorceresses. "And I wasn't aware that there was a plan for us to fight Dezya and save Anna."

Merlin stared, a frown of disbelief crossing his face. "What...but we can't just _leave_ her. You heard what Dezyra said. She's planning something."

"Maybe. But, like I said, I try not to put my trust in the words of sorcerers, so it really doesn't mean anything." Arthur said flatly, decidedly ignoring the meaning to Merlin's words. Unfortunately, that was taking a little effort – so he didn't see how Merlin flinched at his bland words. _She's planning something…_of course she was. That much was obvious, and to be honest, Arthur hadn't even begun worrying about that…

Merlin continued after a moment of silence, his voice muted, but still earnest. "You saw how powerful Dezyra was. Imagine how much damage she could do…and Elsa's the only thing we have to counter that. She's on our side; after all the effort she put into helping and protecting us, obviously she's not going to harm Camelot. If she wanted to do that, she wouldn't have snuck away from the city in the dead of night. The only reason she did that was because she didn't want anyone to get hurt."

Arthur blew out a heavy sigh. "What exactly would you have me do? Just let her go? I don't see how that would help us fight Dezyra, or whatever it is you want us to do."

"No," Merlin mused, looking down with a frown. "Anyway, it's too dangerous; Dezyra knows that Elsa is her enemy now, so she'll try to take her out. Elsa isn't strong enough to protect herself, on her own…"

_He's actually serious_. Arthur watched in astonishment – but, for some reason, stayed silent. _Why is he always right?_ Merlin finally shook his head, looking up decisively. "No, I think our only option is for us to take her back to Camelot with us – just _not_ as a prisoner. Don't tell Uther she has magic. Just for a little while, before we figure out what to do…"

"Merlin –" Arthur spoke sharply, eyebrows raised disbelievingly. "You _do_ know that's treason? You are openly planning treason against Camelot, standing right in front of me." _Just to make sure we're on the same page. _

Merlin blinked, opting a nonplussed expression. "But it's for the good of Camelot, in the end, so it's not really treason. And we're only breaking a few laws in order to _keep_ them, anyway."

Arthur was completely baffled by Merlin's roundabout logic, but he covered up his confusion with a sharp response. "_We_?"

Merlin raised his eyebrows hopefully, widening his eyes convincingly. _Idiot. Does he really think that he can just put on a pitiful expression and… _Arthur sighed. "It's the law, Merlin."

Merlin didn't say anything. Which, obviously, had just the effect that he'd been trying to achieve on Arthur, because that silence let the prince think about his words and all of the times that he'd ignored them himself. Like with Mordred – he'd completely thrown the law out the window, just after a few persuasive words on Morgana's part. But if Morgana hadn't been involved…what would he have done? Let Mordred, an innocent boy, be killed?

He didn't like to dwell on that question too much, because he honestly could not say.

At the time, he'd thought that Morgana's persuasion had probably been clouding his judgment, but now he was glad that he'd helped Mordred escape execution. Relieved beyond belief, to tell the truth. So now, with Merlin here to try and cloud his judgment…how could he know if that was in fact the case, or if that was just an excuse for making the right (and lawfully wrong) decision? Elsa _had_ helped them. She'd been protecting them, knights of Camelot, knowingly, and had apparently helped save Merlin's life (even though she was the reason it got endangered in the first place. But Merlin's stupidity could probably be blamed for that one too). And, she'd done both of those things – protecting Arthur and the knights, and saving Merlin – _with_ magic.

The situation was hurting Arthur's brain. What made matters worse was that even if he did want to agree with Merlin – which he really didn't – there was no way the group of knights that Arthur had with him would see things the way his idiotic manservant did. And so…

Merlin was still giving him ridiculous puppy eyes, rocking back and forth on his heels. Arthur wanted to smack him – but only because, like always, he was turning out to be right. "We're going back to Camelot," sighed Arthur again, turning on heel. Merlin made a squawking sound, stumbling behind him, and Arthur – expecting nothing less – elaborated.

"And I'll…I'll tell the knights to keep quiet about all this."

After a moment of silence, Merlin laughed in relief. "I – that's…" He paused. "Thank you. You're making the right decision."

Arthur shook his head, leveling a glare Merlin's way. "But first, let's get this straight – we're doing this my way, got it? You follow my lead, alright?"

Merlin nodded hastily, surely giving himself a cramp with the speed. "Absolutely," agreed Merlin, grinning. "Whatever you say."

_Whatever I say…_Arthur rubbed a hand over his face wearily, eying Merlin's exuberant face with a faint feeling of dismay. _Well, you're definitely not going to like it. _

**Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you think. **


	22. Hope

**Hello, anyone who still happens to be out there and actually wanting to read this…well, I see no point in more countless apologies. I'm sorry. In case you didn't see on my profile, I planned to update this months ago, and probably would've kept up if I had…but then, lightning struck: just as I sat down to a computer in the library, all set to post this chapter, I discover that my flashdrive (which held all my writing, not just for ATOFAI but for any other FF works as well) had suddenly become 'corrupted or unreadable'. And, for some reason…I hadn't backed any of my stuff up, so I lost completely everything.**

**Well, if this has happened to anyone out there, then you know how much of a complete bummer it is and how hard it is to restart. It's that same feeling you get after completing countless levels on a game, only to realize that your game didn't save…absolutely exhausting. So, it's taken a while to get back into this. I just sort of took a break from FF and all that frustration for a while, and then started writing again over Christmas break…and then, spring semester started, and of course that's a whole new barrel of fun. Right now, despite the fact that I'm currently a high school junior, I'm taking two college classes – Bio-Organic Chemistry, and Trigonometry – on top of that. So..yeah. Been a bit busy. **

**But, I FINALLY decided to update this today because….it's my 17****th**** birthday! And I was sick of feeling like such a loser when it comes to FF. Well, New Years resolutions always suck, but maybe I can have a successful 17-years-old resolution: to update! Yeah, that would be great.**

**Anyway, this is pretty short compared to my usual and I'm not completely satisfied, but I thought I'd really better just get out of this rut and move on before I waste even more time. Enjoy (I hope)! **

**Chapter 22: Hope**

_Please, just please let this be the start of something good_. Merlin let the words whisper in his heart, hoping that maybe they would take effect if he just kept it up. If this all worked out…maybe it could be a beginning to an entirely different future.

After all, just a few days ago, he never would have foreseen Arthur to be capable of agreeing with Merlin that they needed a sorceress's help. Or that _they_ should help said sorceress. Certainly, not that they should bring that sorceress back to Camelot with them, without even attempting to render her powers mute.

Of course, in retrospect, those thoughts made it a little harder to trust that those impossibilities were actually occurring _now_… but he had to hope. After all, what was it that Merlin had only ever had all along, there to make sure that he never wavered when things got rough? Just hope, coupled with stubborn resolve and a lot of luck.

If ever, now was really the time for those things. And maybe it _was_ the fault of hope that Merlin allowed a sliver of relief into his heart…relief for both Elsa and himself. Because maybe things _would_ turn out all right, and maybe Arthur _would_ get to know the real Elsa, and maybe he _would_ somehow find out who Merlin really was too, and not turn away.

With so many _maybes_ counting on his hope alone, he'd have to give it all he could. And then maybe, it would survive.

Arthur finally took a step away, signaling the end of their conversation, giving Merlin a slight nod – the kind he sent to his knights just as they were about to leap out at the enemy, each with their own target. _You know your orders_. Merlin replied with the slightest of gestures, following a step behind Arthur as they returned to the center of the clearing.

Merlin's gaze first honed in on Elsa, still huddled alone in a heap of palatable self-loathing and misery. The emotions were like a spark to him, urging him frantically – his legs wanted to rush over to her, his arms to embrace her and offer whatever comfort he could. But the next thing his gaze caught sight of was the cluster of uncertain-looking knights, their faces turned in unison towards Arthur as they waited for command.

Arthur took a breath and slowed his pace as Merlin drew level with him, turning as Arthur's face came into view – but those features were hard and stony, lacking all of the restraint and empathy that they had held just seconds ago. A drop of unease fell like ice into his stomach as Merlin watched that mask, and as Arthur opened his mouth to speak.

"Arrest her."

And with that, Merlin's hope flickered and died.

"_Arrest her."_

The words resonated throughout the clearing, reaching her ears but still, _not_…maybe she was going deaf. Maybe she just didn't care. They barely made a dent in her thoughts, instead lingering to float around in her mind, along with countless other phrases and regretted words…

Elsa couldn't breathe. She shouldn't be able to _feel_, firstly, not after everything that had happened – the ups and downs of the day, meshing and crashing together in her barely conscious mind – and after all of the emotions that had wrung her body and wracked her dry of tears…but somehow, they still came, pouring silently down her cold cheeks.

_Why won't you tell me? Why won't everyone just stop treating me like a baby, who can't be trusted with a secret, and just tell me? _

Words from a lifetime ago – just a handful of days – echoed through Elsa's mind along with the fresher ones, bringing renewed waves of dull agony.

_I don't want to be protected; I just want to know the truth._

She let her fists clench, nails biting into the soft skin of her palm – these were the only words that concerned her right now. Words she should've listened to, back then. _I should've done both. I should've protected you with the truth. _

The harder she closed her eyes, the more vividly the image of Anna's sleeping - _unconscious_ \- face appeared in her mind's eye. Her sister looked call, peaceful, perhaps...but also totally vacant. Unaware. Vulnerable. Somewhere, buried deep underground the same way Dezyra had buried Merlin - in danger. Because of her. _My fault. _

There were so many things that she could've changed, so many times - a million scenarios flashed through her mind that started with her telling Anna the truth, and ended with something _good_. Something _worth_ it, and unimaginable anyway because all of the suffering that she'd gone through all her life was all _her_ doing._ If only I'd given her a chance - _

_Then none of this would have happened. _

Worthless resolve clutched at her heart, doing nothing for her foggy thoughts – not that it mattered. It was too late, wasn't it? Dezyra was gone, along with Anna and any chance of rescuing her –

But – perhaps she could – just as a jolt of hope shot through her, those words came back, and this time she heard –

"_Arrest her."_ Elsa blinked, hearing the words as if they were just spoken, straightening even as a pair of hard hands closed around her upper arms, supporting her half by their own strength.

Confusion spiked through her as she opened her eyes wide, finally seeing – light nearly blinded her, warping through the veil of tears still coating her eyes. Two of the Camelot knights were gripping her arms tightly, faces forcedly blank – a few feet away stood Arthur, the prince, a hard look on his face – behind him, already darting around with a shocked look on his face, was Merlin – his eyes were filled with outrage and betrayal, and she had a feeling that those emotions were on her part. The sight sparked an already-familiar twinge in her chest – but then those words came back, and _finally_, the meaning registered. _Arrest her._ What?

"Arrest…" Her voice came out hoarse and ragged – she could barely tell if her words were even intelligible at all. But it seemed that they were, because half a second later Arthur blinked, almost in acknowledgement, crossing his arms haughtily. Meanwhile, Merlin gaped at the prince, a furious scowl beginning to cross his features.

"_What_? Arthur – but, you –" Merlin sputtered, seeming barely able to string two words together in his shock – Elsa could relate, being not too far from that state herself.

Arthur pressed his lips together, turning to send a cold glare at Merlin, holding his gaze for several seconds – Elsa couldn't catch exactly what passed between them during the exchange, still being more out of it than not, but after a few seconds Merlin seemed to slump, his scowl slackening. His eyes flitted to Elsa's – what lingered there? An apology, regret, pity? – before he turned slightly, distinctly placing himself outside of the group and conversation. The sight did nothing to help Elsa's quickly fraying nerves.

_Merlin?_ It was just a thought – Elsa didn't even try to speak to Merlin through her mind, but even as the name sounded in her consciousness, Merlin's partially obscured figure flinched visibly as he ducked his head. The sharp sting of panic ripped through her as she watched – as he gave no more reaction than that. He wasn't doing anything. _He's given up on me._

The thought was involuntary – sporadic – but a fresh set of hot tears filled her eyes regardless, her chest tightening uncomfortably. _Given up. _Those words weren't compatible with Merlin – or what she knew of him, anyway – it didn't matter. _How could he just give up on me?_

She knew – she knew – that she didn't deserve to be feeling this betrayal about Merlin, not after everything she'd done – logically, she knew, but that didn't change a thing. The emotion still flooded her, burning her up and charring every piece of her until she couldn't dwell on it anymore – Arthur spoke distantly, and she turned to face him, completely aware that her eyes were filled with tears. _Does it matter?_

Arthur stood before her, squaring his stance and somehow appearing far taller and more intimidating than before. She watched, transfixed, as he clenched his jaw and set his indifferent gaze on her.

"Yes, _arrest_. It doesn't matter who you are or what you've done," ground out Arthur stiffly – his eyes held no emotion, none at all, so much that Elsa almost had to wonder if he was somehow being controlled by Dezyra now – "What matters is that you're on Camelot soil, and are a sorceress who has practiced magic. And for that, you _will_ face justice."

_Could it be her?_ – but no, her eyes caught how his hands clenched into tight fists, how he shifted back and forth on his feet. Fidgeting, conscious actions, meaning that _these_ actions were completely voluntary – _which puts me in an even worse situation…_

Her eyes wanted to flit back to Merlin – the very thought of his name crossing her mind sent another spike of pain stabbing through her – but she refused, shutting her eyes tightly instead, even if only for a few seconds. _Given up?_ She opened her eyes to stare straight at Arthur, willing her crumpling emotions not to bleed through and betray her.

"I-I can't."

And those were the words she offered up – Elsa's tongue was wool, her mouth full of sand all of the sudden. She swallowed heavily, surprised at how the action brought real pain, and forced herself to speak. "I can't, I can't – I need to go after Dezyra. My sister…" Barely a whisper, despite all that effort. _How can I be so weak?_

Regardless, Arthur hardly seemed to even blink at her words. "I don't think so." Behind his solid-looking figure, Elsa's eyes caught the movement before she could avert her eyes – Merlin's hunched figure turned, a hand reaching up to rub at his face in frustration or anger – she tore her eyes away, clenching her jaw. Not in anger, herself. She didn't have that right, did she?

She wasn't angry, not at Merlin. Despite the hole that the thought of Merlin giving up on her had carved inside her, and despite the abyss of emptiness that appeared in place of his constant comfort and support _– I've only known him for a few days; how could I rely on him so much?_ – she wasn't angry. Not at him. After all…_I never deserved his friendship in the first place_.

Despite all her high hopes, all her ambitions, Elsa was still that same person she'd feared all her life. A victim of her own incompetence – a threat to herself, to everyone she cared about. Everyone suffered because of her, in the end; it had always been Anna, all their lives, and now even more so. _And I'm trying to convince him to let me go so that I can save her? When I can't even save myself…?_

_I don't think so._ Elsa's teeth caught her lip between them, tearing violently at her flesh as she tried to hold back yet another barrage of tears. She could practically feel any resolve she might've had fade away and vanish – involuntarily, almost instinctively, her eyes went to that spot behind Arthur, to where Merlin was. But – this time, he wasn't turned away – his eyes met hers.

Guilt, frustration, unexplained sorrow – his eyes were like a coded message, completely uninterruptable except for the apparent misery there. Before she could react, even respond, Arthur shifted and moved between them, breaking her line of sight. He sidled up to her, taking the place of the knight holding onto her right arm – she leaned away, pulling against them even if there really was no direction to pull _in_. The soft words seemed to come from nowhere, brushing up against her ear – "_Don't struggle. If you want us to help you get back your sister, then just play along._"

Arthur's words. Elsa turned, tilting her head up at him inquisitively – she couldn't help it, but he was already straightening up, eyes averted and lips sealed. _The discussion is closed._

_Then – what?_ Her eyes flitted back, and Merlin's were there – this time, resignation and apology were what they said. But, also…hope?

_Given up…_

Should she allow hope to cross into her heart again? _Can I afford not to? _

Maybe not having a choice really was better…

**Again, sorry for not updating...and sorry if this is weird or not at all up to my usual standards. I just thought, it was probably better to just get it out of the way and move forward. Next chapter will be better, I promise! And also, sooner. Let's hope, anyway. Thanks for reading! **

**-whatswiththemustache**


	23. Return

**Could it be? Am I actually updating just eight days after my last update? I know – mind-blowing, despite the fact that updating once a week was kind of the plan to begin with…uh, yeah, well, let's just not go there again. I really want to get back into updating more regularly and moving on with this. I still feel like we're kind of in a limbo as far as plot and things go, and it's a really annoying feeling. **

**That said – I like this chapter. It feels way more natural, way more my style than the last chapter was (sorry about that). Hope you enjoy! **

**P.S.**** \- BTW… if anyone out there has ever wondered what Elsa might look like in my mind – I wasn't imagining an animation this whole time – well, have any of you seen Into the Woods? It's a Disney musical that came out about a year ago (ish? not sure). Well, if you have…remember Rapunzel? (Even though she literally had about ten minutes of screen time, tops …) Well, that's what I imagine a real-life Elsa to look like. If you haven't seen Into the Woods, then just google Mackenzie Mauzy. If you care. Which you may not. Anyway…**

**Chapter 23: Return**

It physically pained him to watch as Arthur let his knights officially arrest Elsa, binding her hands together (as if that mattered) and forcibly steering her over to where the horses stood.

Of course, they were careful – as gentle as one could hope, considering that they were knights of Camelot handling a sorceress – but still. Merlin wasn't sure if he wanted to yell at Arthur – _congratulations on coming up with the stupidest plan I've ever had the displeasure of becoming a part of_ – or maybe just give him a good rap on the head and get Elsa _out of there_.

Not that it really was that bad of a plan. In fact, it made more sense than anything Merlin had been thinking – otherwise, how in the world would they have gotten the knights to cooperate? No matter how kind or noble any of them were – assuming that any were in fact worthy of those titles – they'd be obliged to tell their king about this. Except. If they brought Elsa back to Camelot as a captive, and then told them to maintain utter secrecy about the incident in order to keep panic from spreading throughout the city, they'd do as told. After all, it would be for the sake of Camelot.

A good plan (sort of). And yet, knowing that didn't help the ache that was settling deep in Merlin's chest, pressing on his heart from within, urging him that this wasn't right. And no matter how smart this course of action might be, knowing that would never dull the pain that stabbed through him upon seeing Elsa's face, torn between betrayal and pure exhaustion.

It wasn't right. It wasn't _fair._

He just hoped that Arthur was aware of that as much as he was.

* * *

Not surprisingly, the ride back to Camelot went by in complete silence. The knights spread out without needing to ask Arthur for any sort of orders at all – they simply took up their customary positions, a few taking the lead and others flanking or following at the rear. Arthur rode along just one horse before the one that carried Elsa, pensive and closed off.

Merlin managed to position his horse right beside Elsa's – normally, the knights in charge of escorting her would have shooed him off, but not today. Not that it really mattered much, because Elsa spent the entirety of the journey with her head bowed, just as quiet as Arthur was being. Now more than ever did Merlin want to offer her moral support, to promise that he wouldn't let anything bad happen – and yet, she'd completely shut him out, refusing to let him.

It was perhaps the most uncomfortable ride he'd ever been on – the whole time, he was itching to speak up, to just _say_ what he needed to, but he couldn't.

Finally – _finally_ – when Camelot's bright towers came into view, Arthur lifted a gloved hand into the air and called the knights to him, his eyes roving across their faces. Merlin watched him hesitantly – not that he _didn't_ trust Arthur's word, but seeing was believing. After all the knights urged their mounts to circle in as close as possible to the prince – Elsa's gaze was still decidedly pointed towards her bound hands, resting on the pommel of her saddle – Arthur straightened in his seat and spoke.

"Alright…here's how we're going to play this," said Arthur wearily, resignation and resolve apparent on his face. _Does he really feel that way about all this?_ Merlin had to wonder, eyeing his friend dubiously. Or was he really just that good of an actor?

"We've got to deal with this situation as discreetly as possible. As you all know, _Princess_ Elsa is of royal blood and that puts us in a very precarious position. There are a lot of things that we need to consider, and in the meantime, the last thing Camelot needs is for panic to spread when the people find out that we're holding a princess with magic inside our walls. Which is why…they're not _going_ to."

Arthur's eyes wandered over the group of knights gathered before him once again – gauging their reaction, as far as Merlin could tell. "I need you all to keep this to yourselves – not a word of the past day's events is to get out to _anyone_. That includes reports, fellow knights…even the king. I'll inform him on what happened here privately, but should he ask any of you about it, I need you to say that the trip was _uneventful_. For now, all that happened was this: we followed the tracks leading out of the city, and found the princess unhurt about an hour's ride out, where her kidnapper had left her upon realizing that we were in pursuit. I don't want to hear anything different from this point onwards. Got it?"

The men surrounding the prince didn't even seem to blink – not a surprised breath, not a hint of hesitation could be seen. They collectively let out soft words of agreement, assuring their obedience. Arthur simply nodded once, eyes lingering across their faces for a second longer before picking up his reins and turning his horse around.

Before he rode forward once more, Arthur paused, turning to look back over his shoulder. "Oh, and – unbind her. We can't risk any suspicion." With a final nod, he faced forward again and moved off.

Merlin sometimes had to wonder how Arthur managed to inspire such loyalty, such complete and utter allegiance from his men. Sometimes it was truly amazing – of course, Merlin couldn't pretend that he wasn't bound by that same loyalty and devotion. Despite that, he couldn't help the surge of pride that washed through him at the sight.

Halfheartedly suppressing a smile, Merlin tapped his heels to the his horse's sides – but even as his mount stepped forward, his gaze fell on Elsa just a few feet away.

For the first time throughout their return to Camelot, Elsa's head was raised – a frown was still set immovably on her pale face, but this time it was made up of incredulity and disbelief, as well as badly stifled hope. _Maybe…_ She stared after Arthur, who was already riding along ahead of them, the distance between increasing with each second.

The knight positioned firmly beside Elsa – a youngish man, with a set of clear grey eyes and a scruffy chin – impatiently ushered Elsa's horse forward as he finished loosening and removing the coarse rope that bound Elsa's wrists together, sparing Elsa herself just a terse glance. Before they began moving again, however, Elsa's gaze turned and her eyes met Merlin's.

_Ah_. So that was it…complete disbelief, absolute confusion, astonishment even. Elsa's eyes didn't even attempt to hide the emotions within her, the question that she couldn't ask. Not that she needed to – Merlin already knew it. Before she could try – as they began moving along the road, following the rest of the group – Merlin kept to the silence, and simply gave her a smile.

_I told you. He's a good man. We'll take care of you._ Maybe those words would get through to her, after all.

* * *

Getting back into the city was more of a relief than Merlin had expected it to be. Despite the fact that here, Elsa was in _real_ danger, and that as soon as they entered the city, he'd lose any chance he'd formerly had to talk to Elsa freely. _Still_. Riding into the city, watching the magnificent towers growing taller as they approached…the sight let him breathe freely, ironic as that was. Camelot was home.

Their arrival certainly didn't go by unnoticed by anyone else, either. As they made their way through the lower town, the people hailed them energetically, offering bows and smiles to Arthur and his knights. That was the nice part – in the lower town, populated by the common folk, there were no complications, no questions needing answering. Just simple, earnest greetings.

It was a different story in the citadel, however. Once they entered the courtyard…a clamor of inquiries, questions and orders. Merlin still couldn't quite block it all out – but somehow Arthur had learned how, and so he rode, undaunted, up to the quickly growing crowd of servants, nobles and knights clustered on the steps leading up to the castle.

They were all looking to Arthur and to Elsa – searching for injuries, or any sign at all of misfortune that might darken their day. Even though he knew that Arthur's knights would follow orders – to do anything else was unimaginable for them, surely – Merlin couldn't stop himself from watching them carefully, looking for any sign that they might let something slip. He didn't find a single one. _Allies in the strangest places_…he smiled slightly at the thought, turning as he shifted in the saddle, preparing to dismount.

But even as he began the familiar movement, letting his weight start to pull him over – his eyes somehow went beyond all the commotion, straight to one spot at the top of the grand staircase. There, where one person stood silent and unmoving – a startlingly unnerving sight, even though it had absolutely no cause to be. Morgana's face was pale – it always was – her appearance dark and haunted, staring with wide, almost – horrified? – eyes. Staring, unrelenting – at Merlin. Her gaze was dead-on.

Merlin found himself frozen, staring back at her. Like how a mouse might become caught staring into the eyes of a snake. Except why would the Lady Morgana ever be compared to a snake, at all – unless her eyes were that haunting and accusing, as if he'd somehow broken a dire promise. For instance…

– _just don't trust her. Whatever you do. She'll fool you, trick you – and then it'll be too late. Don't trust her! _

Morgana's warning. Had that happened just a day ago?

Morgana's eyes flitted away from his for a split-second – away, it seemed, directly in the direction of where Elsa was – and then they returned, dark and angry, scared and hopeless. She took a gasp of breath – he could see her bodice heave with it, even at this distance – before turning and storming away, disappearing into the shadowy halls of the castle; the unobtrusive form of Gwen followed after her, quiet and submissive as ever.

Only then did his heart reveal that it was hammering, frantic in every beat – his body felt numb in the wake of it, his head light. The courtyard flowed around him with people, servants and knights, and he belatedly realized that he should probably be one of them. Right.

Merlin took in a deep breath, trying to ignore how shaken he was – how his heart was still racing. _It doesn't matter. She was wrong. _Obviously – about Elsa, anyway. But. Morgana's unruly predictions had never promised to be precise or detailed. Only irrevocably, unchangeably true.

Arthur's voice abruptly cut through the heavy feeling of dread that was seeping slowly into his heart. "Merlin," called the prince sharply, badly concealed urgency in his voice. Merlin barely managed to force himself to turn, meeting Arthur's imperative eyes with his slightly glassy ones. "Take Elsa to Gaius's chambers, would you?"

Merlin might have thought it was strange that Arthur was actually _asking_ him to do something, if not for the obvious words left unsaid hovering in the air between them. _Hurry up and get her out of here before they try and lock her up somewhere. It would be nice if you could make yourself useful, seeing as how this was _your_ idea, after all. _He could perfectly imagine what Arthur might say, if they weren't surrounded by ears all too eager to hear something less than frank.

Merlin nodded to Arthur anyway, despite the lingering feeling of ringing in his ears and ice in his chest. _No time for that_. Besides…as soon as he finally swung himself out of the saddle, heels hitting the ground with finality, his gaze went straight to where Elsa was, uncertainly climbing down from her horse with several servants at her elbows – trying to aid her, as they would do with any noble, despite the fact that she evidently didn't want any help whatsoever. Her expression was pinched, visibly torn with a torrent of emotions no matter how hard she was trying to hide it. And he did know she was trying to – if he focused, actively _tried_, he could still feel her presence in his mind, the emotions raging dully beneath the walls she'd raised so frantically.

It didn't matter what dire predictions Morgana revealed, what unrest she paraded. Merlin wouldn't budge in this situation, not this time. _Elsa is anything but evil_.

He made his way over to her side, ignoring how the knights still milling about were beginning to eye Elsa with growing hesitation. _Let's all just move along, please_. The sooner, the better.

Elsa's head whipped around at his light touch to her elbow – faintly alarmed, at first, but her expression relaxed slightly as her eyes met his. Merlin gestured with a slight nod towards the castle, turning to lead the way – Elsa followed close behind him as they quickly climbed up the steps. Glancing back impulsively, Merlin caught sight of Arthur making to follow them – the prince was teetering on the edge of conversation with one of the knights, who looked more than a little distraught; Arthur shook his head at whatever the other man had said, before breaking away and pounding up the steps.

Seeing Arthur trailing so close behind them sparked a strange sense of urgency within Merlin – he picked up his pace, urging Elsa onwards with a quick glance. As they passed through the large doorway leading into the castle, Merlin spoke urgently in a low voice.

"Elsa…?" She turned slightly, blue eyes still dull with lingering pain and shock. Merlin glanced back again – nearly cursing himself for it, because Arthur was nearly upon them and whatever he'd wanted to say had apparently gone out of his head. That sense of urgency pressed on him harder than ever, and all he could do was stand there, staring. Why? What was he even doing –

For some reason – a ridiculous and unfounded one, probably – Merlin had suddenly gotten the unsettling feeling that this might be the last chance he'd get in a long time to talk to Elsa, really _talk_ to her without anyone else listening in and judging him, _them_. Surely, it was completely unnecessary and groundless and _not at all_ true. Still. It was an impulse he couldn't ignore.

"Just…I mean –" His eyes flickered back to Arthur for half a second – he forced them back, trying to find the right words. _Why is this suddenly so hard?_ "Everything's going to be okay. We're going to fix all of this. You know that, right?"

Elsa was still staring at him with wide eyes – no answer, no affirmation to be seen – when Arthur reached them, breaking the silence with his impatient sigh and rush. "Come on – what are you doing, just standing here?" Arthur asked sharply, his words obviously directed solely at Merlin. Elsa averted her eyes quickly, ducking her head once more.

Biting back a sigh, Merlin took a step back – Arthur held his gaze for a moment, frowning without reserve, before setting off to lead the way once more as they made their way to the physician's chambers. Elsa strode along right beside Merlin – they walked close, closer than necessary, but Merlin could feel a rift that hadn't been there before. Something that he wanted to scratch at, pound at until it faded away, back into nothing.

But he couldn't, not as long as they were in this mess. Perhaps it _had_ been his idea, as well as the best course of action, as far as he could see – but that didn't make it any less thorny of a situation. And maybe he felt at home in Camelot, more so than anywhere else in the world – but right now, walking down the oh-so-familiar halls alongside Arthur and Elsa, there was only one thing he could think to wish. Ridiculously simple, but so _not_ – if only Arthur had been just a few steps further away, so that he might've had enough time to hear whatever it was Elsa would have eventually said.

_Too late_...

**More ominous stuff – yay! I'm feeling more and more like myself. ;) Well, I hope y'all enjoyed, even though this was still short and relatively uneventful…in any case, let me just say that I believe it will be in the next chapter that, once again, everything starts getting sucked into the mudslide that is the plot to this story…**

**Well, here's to hoping. I **_**do**_** hope I can update next week, but no promises. Either way – please review! It'll definitely make my typing fingers speedier. Thanks for reading! **

**~whatswiththemustache **


	24. No Place Like Home

**Just a few things before you're allowed to read - firstly, I want to say THANK YOU to every one who's reviewed, or favorited, or followed or read this story...especially to all my guest reviewers, really, I love you all. Thank you! All your awesome feedback is why this story is still going. (Well, not entirely why, but it's a pretty big part of it.) **

**Secondly - or I guess, part two of what I was just saying - wow, reviews. We are agonizingly close to 100, and I'm really excited about taking aim for that beautiful number...so, help me out? Let's hit a 100 reviews, people, and completely make my day! Cuz that would be pretty awesome. **

**And thirdly - not important, really, but _woah _I think you'll appreciate the fact that this chapter is my longest yet - over 5000 words! I deserve some confetti. :) Well, enjoy!**

**Chapter 24: No Place Like Home**

The second that they pushed open the frail-looking wooden door to Gaius's chambers and entered the room, Merlin decided that he would never, ever leave Camelot like he had after an argument with Gaius. As best he could help it, anyway. It was too much on his conscience _and_ Gaius's nerves.

The old physician, standing before a cluttered work table facing the door, dropped what had filled his hands – a small vial and a heavy book – back down to the surface with a loud bang as he caught sight of Merlin and Arthur coming in. "_Merlin!_" Gaius gasped, the shock and relief apparent on his face and in his voice. "Arthur – oh, you're back. Thank goodness." His wrinkled old face broke out into a smile as he rushed quickly around the table, eyes searching.

Merlin laughed and hurried to meet him, embracing the old man in a hug._ I'm sorry. _"It's good to be back," replied Merlin, letting his warm voice and smile apologize for him, for now. Gaius pulled away with knowing eyes, smiling softly in return.

"But, uh, Gaius –" Merlin started, turning back towards the doorway, but Gaius had already seen. Following slowly behind Arthur, Elsa appeared in the doorway with quiet footsteps, her head lowered and frame hesitant. Arthur ushered her into the room, grimacing slightly as he shut the door behind her, while Gaius looked on, silent.

"Gaius," said Arthur slowly – like a warning. His eyes flickered to the princess standing beside him, just a split-second of unease. "We've got some…news."

Gaius backed up a step, looking over Elsa with wide, wary eyes – he glanced at Merlin quickly, seeming reluctant. "I see you retrieved the princess, then," said Gaius eventually, his voice even – but Merlin thought he could hear the uncertainty beneath it, carefully concealed. "I'm glad to see you've returned safely, Elsa."

By the door, Elsa raised her head slightly, letting her eyes flicker up to meet Gaius's for a moment. A tiny smile of thanks appeared on her face, but seeing it was almost painful – maybe not for the others, but for Merlin. _How many times have I worn a smile like that – barely hiding so much pain and hopelessness?_ "Thank you, Gaius," replied Elsa quietly, her voice catching on a tremble, before she ducked her head again, the smile quickly fading.

A troubled sigh escaped from Merlin before he even knew it – again, that feeling of unease had to return, taunting him. _How can I help her?_ Biting his lip, Merlin looked up again to see Arthur watching him with a guarded expression – the prince's eyes darted away as soon as theirs met, and he took a step forward, beckoning Gaius towards the far corner of the room.

"A lot has happened since we left Camelot, Gaius," Arthur told the physician in a low and weary voice, rubbing a hand over his face as he led him away. "But I trust your judgment, and we need your help, so I can only ask that you keep what I tell you between us. I know it may be hard, but that's what it might take to keep Camelot safe, so just hear me out…" Arthur bent close to Gaius, beginning to tell the story of what had transpired while they'd been gone. Merlin turned away as soon as Arthur launched in to the tale, not anywhere near patient enough to sit it through – he could fill Gaius in on anything of significance later, anyway.

_What really matters right now is Elsa. _The blonde girl was leaning against the wall by the door, head still bowed – the same way she'd been all day, as if she were at a funeral – with her hands clasped before her, looking sad and small and hopeless. Merlin approached her slowly – not for the first time, reminded of trying to get near to a wild animal, cornered and afraid – except that before, she _had_ been. Now, Elsa didn't show any kind of wild and desperate emotion – she just looked tired. Exhausted, as if the world had taken everything that mattered from her, and she just didn't care anymore. The idea scared him more than he cared to admit, leaving an empty feeling of dread stirring in his gut, and sitting still would do nothing to change that.

"Elsa?" Merlin said softly, stopping a few feet away. "…You must be tired – hungry, too…do you want to sit down, rest? And I can go get some food…" Merlin tried his best to insert an uplifting tone to his voice – anything to cheer Elsa up – but she only looked up slowly, her eyes wanting to flicker away.

"I – no," started Elsa, hesitant as ever – he watched in concern as she took a quick breath, about to speak, before sighing just as quickly and turning away. "I don't – I don't need anything."

"I'm pretty sure you do," wheedled Merlin, risking a smile. "Because if my memory is right, then you haven't eaten anything since I have, and right now I'm _starving_. And on top of that, you've rested even _less_, so…"

"I'm _fine_," Elsa stressed, looking away. "I'll be fine."

_Except that you won't be_. Merlin's smile slipped away as he watched her – the helplessness that was eating at her was beginning to wear at him as well, and he wasn't sure that it was entirely mutual. _Our connection? _Whatever it was, it only meant that he had to do something. _For you and for me_.

Merlin sighed, crossing his arms. "Right…because it's not like I've heard that before."

For a moment, no reaction – then Elsa lifted her head back, letting out a huff of breath that _just_ missed being accepted as a laugh. She finally met his eyes, shaking her head slowly. "I'm sorry," said Elsa quietly, the words sounding absurdly heavy – pressing down on her, he could practically feel their weight. She lowered her voice, obviously trying to keep from letting Arthur or Gaius hear. "I know – I _know_, after everything you've done and all you've risked, I should be – I should be _grateful_, not acting like this…not shutting you out…" Her eyes were clear and bright – finally, that blank and glassy look was gone, washed away by her tears.

"But I can't – I just can't –" Her words, barely audible, began to jam into one another as she gasped for breath. "I _can't_ eat. I _can't_ rest – I can't do anything…" Elsa pressed her lips together, bowing her head once more – but this time, to hide her tears.

Merlin took a deep breath, not needing to ask – the sinking feeling that they shared was enough. "Not as long as Anna is still out there."

Elsa nodded with a sniff, wiping at her face. "…I have to do something," she whispered, slumping down against the wall even further.

_Of course you do. _"I know," said Merlin firmly, deciding on the spot to reach forward and grasp Elsa's hand in his own, pulling her up – her gaze flashed to his face in surprise and sudden alertness. "And the best way to _start_ doing something…is to make sure that you're healthy enough to do it." With a smile, Merlin turned and pulled her across the room to one of the more comfortable chairs – she barely resisted, only trailing along as if sleepwalking, and in a moment she was seated, looking as small and lost as ever.

"Look, Elsa –" Merlin began, sending a quick glance over his shoulder at Arthur and Gaius, still talking in hushed voices across the room. "I've said this before, and I'll say it again if you need me to – we _will_ help you save your sister. I promise. I'll do whatever it takes. But right now, you just need to trust me and _rest_, and _stop_ blaming yourself because, believe me – it won't get you anywhere. _It wasn't your fault_."

Elsa sighed half-heartedly, not agreeing but not disagreeing either – _I'd call that a victory._ Merlin raised his eyebrows earnestly to make his point, straightening and pulling away. "Stay here, and _stop worrying_," he said firmly. "Everything is going to work out."

* * *

"...were the exact words? You must do your best to remember – this could be very important, Arthur."

"What could?" asked Merlin loudly, jumping straight in to the conversation as he joined Arthur and Gaius across the room. Arthur only let out tight sigh, lifting his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, and Gaius turned towards Merlin with a worried frown.

"Something that you missed," said Gaius tersely, giving Merlin a disapproving glare. "While you were, apparently, trapped underground in a magical prison." _Which means that you've got a lot of explaining to do_. Merlin could practically hear the unsaid words – he merely grimaced slightly, which was all the apology that they had time for.

"When we first came across Elsa and Dezyra in the woods," explained Arthur slowly, with a growing frown. "And while you were – well –" Arthur waved a hand impatiently at the ground, shaking his head in exasperation– "_down there_, Dezyra was doing some magic ritual or something. She kept repeating a phrase in the Old Religion. Even after she trapped us with her magic, she kept doing it – she would say the phrase, and then Elsa would repeat it. It was like Elsa was hypnotized…" In what almost looked like an unconscious movement, Arthur turned to look over his shoulder at Elsa, still sitting quietly across the room.

Merlin found himself gaping at Arthur, a cold feeling spreading over him. "_What_?" He sputtered, taking a step back for no reason because obviously, it wasn't _Arthur_ – it was whatever Dezyra had done. "But that's…"

"Precisely," said Gaius, scowling. "If Dezyra made Elsa repeat whatever she was saying using _magic_, which surely is what happened…then she could have been using any number of spells or enchantments. It's impossible to know, unless perhaps someone can remember what was said."

"Well, I don't!" Arthur shook his head in frustration, placing his hands on his hips. "It all sounded like gibberish to me. Maybe one of the knights…or, I suppose, Elsa might remember…"

"She might," agreed Merlin slowly, frowning at the floor. "But – don't ask her now. She needs to rest – Arthur, you must remember _something_, don't you?" He asked quickly, allowing his protectiveness of Elsa to show this once – not that the timing was all that great, as if it ever was.

Arthur gritted his teeth, glaring at Merlin. "_No_, I don't, and it's not like I'd want to even if I had –" He broke off, obviously doing his best to bite back his anger and frustration. Merlin couldn't help but be a bit taken aback – Arthur had seemed fine with the situation back in the woods, when he'd first agreed to the plan in the first place, but now he was getting more irritated and tense by the minute. _Well, this is a pretty huge leap for him, agreeing to tolerate her at all_. He supposed that it was just going to take him some time getting used to.

Right now, though, time wasn't exactly a luxury. Merlin watched, frowning in concern, as Arthur let out a huff of breath, continuing. "Look – whatever it was that Dezyra tried to do, Elsa eventually stopped repeating and broke free of her control, so maybe it didn't even work. And even if it did – what's the point in arguing about it? We need Elsa to stop Dezyra's threat and whatever plan she has, and to do that we need to make sure that Elsa is safe here. So instead of wasting time talking, let's just go and work on doing that." He took a step backwards, wearing a look Merlin knew well – that pensive, _no-nothing's-wrong-even-though-it-really-is_ look that he got whenever he was faced with anything in the vicinity of a moral dilemma. It was never a good thing.

"I'm going to go and report to my father before he starts sending guards off to hunt me down first," said Arthur – still a touch hasty, uncomfortable. "I'll send a few knights to come and escort Elsa to her chambers and guard outside it. Until then, Gaius, make sure that she's – uh, recovered from her injury." He turned on heel, striding quickly towards the door – Merlin hurried to catch up to the prince before he could escape.

"Arthur," called Merlin, rushing to cut him off. "I just wanted to say – thank you, again, for helping Elsa, agreeing to bring her back with us. I know it can't have been an easy decision…but it _was_ the right one. You'll see." Merlin smiled with a confident nod.

Arthur stood before Merlin, unmoving and watching with unreadable eyes, for a few seconds – the moment stretched, until Merlin's smile started to fade, replaced with a frown. Before he could ask – Arthur turned away with a sigh, giving the slightest of nods before sidestepping around him and disappearing down the corridor.

_Well, so much for that. _Merlin turned back into the room, releasing a tense breath. "I get the feeling that he's –" started Merlin, before glancing at Elsa – still sitting where he'd left her, with her head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed – and lowering his voice. "– that he's not _entirely_ comfortable with the situation." He met Gaius's eyes, not trying to hide his worry.

Gaius shrugged slightly, shuffling forward with slow steps. "Well, can you blame him?" asked Gaius, sending a glance Elsa's way. "It does seem like lot to take it."

_That's one way of putting it_. "Gaius – I'm sorry," said Merlin in a rush, guilty again. "I know you were worried – I shouldn't have just left like that, without any warning. It's – well, beginning to become a bad habit, I think."

Gaius shook his head, smiling a tired smile. "You don't have to apologize, Merlin," he said with a sigh. "In fact, I'm the one who should be. You were right, my boy, and I should have listened to you. I'm sorry that I was so quick to judge Elsa, before." His words were quiet, but sincere – not that Merlin really needed to hear them. He could already see it in Gaius's eyes, whenever he mentioned the princess.

"I know you are." Merlin smiled. "Now, let's just make sure that she's all right."

Gaius made his way to the princess's side, speaking softly so as not to startle her. "My lady? I just want to check on your injury to see that it's healing all right…"

Pulling his gaze away from Elsa, Merlin scanned the room and made for Gaius's medicine bag, lying unobtrusively on the floor by a cluttered cabinet. Crouching down, he flipped it open and sorted quickly through the wide assortment of bottles full of powders and potions, smiling in satisfaction when he found what he was looking for. _Gotcha_.

Gaius was touching his hand to Elsa's pale forehead, checking for a fever, when Merlin held up the bottle of dark liquid in his hand, asking for approval. "For a peaceful sleep?"

Gaius looked up and, glancing at the potion for a moment, nodded his consent with a raised eyebrow. "You're learning well," he murmured, pulling away from Elsa. "In any case, it seems that your injury has all but healed. Besides exhaustion, you're perfectly healthy, my lady."

Elsa nodded wearily, glancing at the bottle in Merlin's hand. "I doubt anything in there will be able to give me a peaceful sleep, though," said Elsa quietly, a crease appearing on her brow. "No matter how tired I am…"

"Well, I wouldn't say that just yet," said Gaius as he stood, taking the sleeping draught from Merlin and peering at the liquid. "Here in Camelot, we have had a good amount of cases of insomnia, so I've had to come quite a long way in perfecting it. Perhaps it's still not perfect, but it is effective." With a slight smile, Gaius handed to bottle to Elsa, who took it hesitantly, frowning.

"And," Merlin added, tilting his head at Elsa. "It'll definitely help to calm your nerves, so you shouldn't have to worry about your magic getting out of control. And after tomorrow, you can stop worrying about that, _permanently_."

"Tomorrow…" Elsa looked up at Merlin uncertainly, the question in her eyes. Merlin smiled, nodding.

"Tomorrow, I'll teach you all I know about magic." _And then, we'll stop Dezyra_. The prospect seemed exhausting, just to think about – but also, exciting. At least, the part about teaching Elsa to use her magic did.

Upon hearing that, Elsa sighed, nodding in relief. "Thank you. Thank you both." Just then, a heavy knock came at the door, before it swung open to admit two knights – and neither of them, Merlin noted, had been part of Arthur's rescue group.

"We're here to escort Princess Elsa to her chambers," announced one of them, his red cloak slung over his shoulder.

Merlin took a step away as Elsa stood up – swaying noticeably – and smiled slightly at the knights, clasping the potion Gaius had given her tightly. With a quick glance back at Merlin, she turned and made to follow the men out of the room.

"Rest well, my lady," called Gaius at their retreating backs, watching as the door swung shut after them.

Merlin let out a pent-up sigh as soon as the loud footsteps of the knights faded, slumping against a table and rubbing a hand over his face. A wave of dizziness washed over him, revealing that _his_ exhaustion was soon to hit, as well – but for now, he couldn't do anything about it.

"You're going to teach her to control her magic, then?" Gaius asked, coming to stand before Merlin with a neutral expression – he got the feeling that it may have been just a little forced.

"Yeah, I need to," replied Merlin, shrugging. "She can barely control it, and if she's going to stay here then we can't take any chances. But – right now, we have more important things to worry about. Do you have any idea what Dezyra's spell might have been?"

Gaius raised his eyebrows, taking a deep breath. "There are countless things it could have been, Merlin," said Gaius, frowning. "And not one of them is good. For now, there's no way to find out. I just fear that whatever this sorceress is planning, it does not bode well for Camelot."

_No, it definitely doesn't_. Merlin lifted a hand to scratch at his ear, shaking his head. "Well, on _top_ of that, I think we might have another problem," said Merlin slowly. "All that talk of insomnia reminded me – before I left, Morgana warned me about Elsa, told me not to trust her. I think she must have seen something in her dream, maybe of Elsa using magic or being controlled by Dezyra. She knows that Elsa isn't just a princess, and just now when we arrived back in Camelot, she gave me this _look_…"

The memory of Morgana's accusing eyes brought a chill over him again, the unease returning. "Well, I'm worried about her."

"Do you think she might tell Uther about her?" Gaius's words were sharp in concern.

"I don't know," said Merlin wearily, straightening regretfully. "Which is why I should probably go and talk to her right now…if I can at least convince her that Elsa doesn't mean us any harm, then I don't think Morgana would turn her in." After all, in the incident with the druid boy, Morgana had been the one harboring someone with magic and fighting to save him. Surely, she'd understand this time around, as well.

"That's bound to be an interesting conversation," Gaius said skeptically, frowning.

"Yeah, well, wish me luck." _I might just need it_. With a grimace, Merlin pushed off for the door, leaving behind his welcoming bed but, unfortunately, not his fatigue and not the sense of disquiet that was becoming more and more familiar with each passing hour.

* * *

When Merlin knocked rather hesitantly on the door to Morgana's chambers, it was a few seconds before there was any reaction at all – finally, he heard the slight rustle of fabric inside, before the door moved, creaking slightly to reveal Morgana's pale face. Merlin sighed in relief, glad that Gwen wasn't there – that might have made this conversation even more difficult – while Morgana simply watched, her eyes wary and guarded.

"Morgana," sighed Merlin, fidgeting with his hands uncomfortably. "I – uh, I was wondering if I could speak with you? About – well…"

For a long moment, Morgana didn't move – she stared at him with a frown, her lips trembling almost imperceptibly, and Merlin rocked back on his heels uncertainly, suddenly doubting if this was a good idea – until finally Morgana blinked, ducking her head in a quick nod as she stepped back to let him in. Merlin might have felt relieved, except that he got the feeling that he'd be squirming under Morgana's glare more than a few times before this conversation was over.

Walking into Morgana's chambers, Merlin teetered back and forth on his feet, unable to help feeling slightly awkward. Morgana walked a few yards away from him before turning with a blank expression, crossing her arms. With her black hair thrown effortlessly over her shoulder, beautiful gown rippling to the floor and one fine eyebrow raised, Morgana looked more like a princess than ever – regal and undaunted by him, the mere servant. _What am I even doing here –_

After a long moment of silence, Morgana let of a tense huff of breath, glancing away. "Well?" asked Morgana impatiently – her eyes, though, were unreadable. "What is it you want to talk about, Merlin?"

_Ah, so she's in one of those moods_. Merlin internally winced when for some reason _guilt_ was the first thing that Morgana's testy voice made him feel. "I – er, well…you seemed, um, upset? When we came back with Elsa earlier." Merlin really couldn't think of a way to broach the subject without sounding rude and disrespectful, and right now was probably a good time to keep away from anything near those.

Morgana clenched her jaw and rolled her eyes slightly, glaring at Merlin and cementing his plan to be as servant-like as possible. "Really? And what does that have to do with anything?"

"It's just…I mean – I know you were worried, before, about Elsa and if we could trust her or not. And I just wanted to tell you that, whatever it was you thought she was going to do…well, she didn't, and she's not going to try to harm us or anything. So you don't have to worry." Merlin finished hopefully, raising his eyebrows and trying to look as convincing as possible – but Morgana just looked away, scowling.

"I thought I told you to forget about that," said Morgana irritably, glaring at the floor now.

"Yes, but…I know what you meant."

"_Do_ you?" Morgana looked up this time, revealing fiery eyes and a dark scowl, not entirely hiding a fear and uncertainty buried underneath her mask. "Because if you do, then you'll remember that I warned you _not_ to trust her, and instead of listening, you just brought her back here, where she's in the _perfect_ position to do any number of things –" Morgana broke off with a gulp of breath, turning away – she strode away towards her window, only taking a few steps before turning his way again in a pacing motion, wringing her hands anxiously.

"I don't care what you say – I _know_," declared Morgana, a pained expression creasing her brow and haunting her eyes. "She _can't_ be trusted, and she's not just a princess – and I think you know that as well, Merlin."

Her last words made his stomach drop – he fought to keep his expression neutral, showing no reaction even though he was fairly sure that it was already too late for that – what had she seen, in her dreams? That he had helped Elsa, knowing about her magic, or that he _had_ magic like her – but would Morgana even be talking to him if she had seen that? Merlin blinked, opening his mouth silently, as the seconds ticked by and Morgana just watched him, her expression too knowing for his liking.

"I…uh, I don't know what – I mean…" Merlin stuttered, averting his eyes, heart pounding because _what was he supposed to say_?

Finally, Morgana took pity, breaking the silence. "I know she has magic, Merlin."

_Oh_. Merlin's eyes darted up to meet hers on their own accord – she stared back, almost daring him to deny it. But really, was there even any point in that? Morgana had shown before that she was more than partially sympathetic to magic and its users – surely, she wouldn't condemn Elsa just because she was a sorceress? or just because her dreams frightened her? Merlin's mind raced, tearing at what he knew and what he feared for some clue, some idea of what to do because he got the strangest feeling that this could very well be one of those moments when everything goes irrevocably, agonizingly wrong.

"Well? Do you deny it?"

He raced through the memories, good and bad – helping the druid boy, that Sidhe who'd tried to drown Arthur, the Questing Beast incident – trying to weigh the evidence under Morgana's watchful eye, frustrated because there wasn't enough time and he'd already made enough bad decisions as it was. What should he choose? Secrets, hiding the truth – something that had saved him already, many times, but always at a cost – or truth, honesty, innocence like that which he used to have and was gradually slipping away from – something that he wanted more than anything, but always seemed to hurt worse, in the aftermath?

It may have been a split-second decision, but really, it wasn't – shouldn't – have been much of a decision at all.

"No," said Merlin with a sigh – relief, reluctance, maybe a little of both. "I don't. Yes – she has magic, she's a sorceress, but she's _not_ evil, Morgana, and I know that for a fact. She helped us, out there – she saved my life, and now she's doing her best to save someone else's life. She's no threat to any of us." Saying the words was like finally removing an iron collar from his neck – he loosened his tense shoulders, relaxing and smiling earnestly at Morgana. _Please, believe me_.

Morgana's frown didn't go away, though. She lifted her head sharply, seeming slightly stunned at Merlin's confession – taken aback, as if she hadn't completely believed it to be the truth in the first place. _Even though she'd seemed so sure_…because it was a bluff, Merlin realized with a start. Morgana had only dreamt about it, after all – how could she have completely believed it to be true, when she barely believed in the power of her dreams in the first place?

Finally Morgana blinked, taking a deep breath – "If she has magic, that makes her untrustworthy," said Morgana quickly – but the words seemed rehearsed, just something to say rather than what she wanted to say. "You should know that by now."

Merlin opened his mouth and paused, suddenly uncertain. "But – _you_ don't," replied Merlin finally, his words slow. "You _told_ me that you thought magic wasn't all bad – that maybe, sometimes it chooses you. And you helped that druid boy – surely you haven't changed your mind on that? I _know_ that you don't agree with Uther on the laws against magic, Morgana, I _know_ it."

Morgana began shaking her head before Merlin had even finished speaking, running her hands through her hair agitatedly. "That's different – all those times, it was _different,_ Merlin, not like this. I _dreamt_ about her – and my dreams, they always come true, I don't know how but they do –"

"But it _didn't_ this time!" exclaimed Merlin, a half-smile crossing his face as he spread his hands to make his point. _You don't have to choose – it's already been done_. "Don't you see – it's already happened, and Elsa _didn't_ turn out to be evil. Your dream didn't come true – or maybe it did, and you just interpreted it wrong. Either way – it doesn't _matter_. Elsa isn't evil. She never was." _And never will be_, he thought happily, thinking of Elsa's smile and the time they'd spent by the lake.

The frustrated sigh that Morgana let out wasn't quite the reaction he was hoping for. She turned away with a scowl, her back curls whipping through the air as she paced away. "It doesn't matter what she did," whispered Morgana, her voice breaking slightly. "My dreams – they _always_ come true."

_But they didn't this time, so why are we still even talking about this_ – Merlin tilted his head in exasperation, frowning at Morgana's back. Why couldn't she just accept that Elsa wasn't evil? What was so appalling about that idea, that she was still so afraid? "Morgana, _what_ are you talking about? They didn't – she didn't, whatever you saw did _not_ happen, so why…"

The silence stretched, quiet enough that Merlin could hear her breathing – sharp, jagged breaths that revealed the hysteria that must have been buried away inside of her, struggling to tear loose and break free from the careful masks and polite smiles that the Lady Morgana so often wore – finally she took a deep breath and turned, looking small and defeated. She hunched in on herself, hugging herself carefully as if she were afraid to fall apart.

"It's not what she did or didn't do, Merlin," whispered Morgana slowly, each word falling from her lips like an apology, or maybe just a warning she'd never wanted to have to tell. "You're wrong – my dreams _do_ always come true. I wish they didn't, but they do, and – that's why, it's not what Elsa's _done_. It's what she's still _going_ to do. _That's_ what I'm so afraid of."

_Still going to do. _

Merlin slumped back, closing his eyes and internally groaning. _Why_ – there was always something more, some unforeseen bend in the road, and he was beginning to get sick of it. Morgana eyed him warily, unmoving – waiting for shock, fear, a sense of betrayal? _No. I refuse to give up on her_.

"Morgana…she's not _going_ to do anything. Not to us, anyway."

Morgana gritted her teeth audibly, lifting her jaw. "She's going to betray you." Her voice was confident, scared but sure, and Merlin ignored it.

"No. I can't believe that." He shook his head, shrugging and not bothering to curb his frankness. "I know her. She'd never do that." He was repeating himself, not to mention speaking directly against Morgana – _so much for acting like a servant_ – but he didn't care.

This time Morgana didn't reply – apparently tired of arguing, she just rolled her eyes in a half-hearted, exhausted sort of way, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter," she sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. "Whatever you choose to believe – it makes no difference, Merlin. Believe me, I'm not saying any of this because I want it to be so – I'm just worried. About you – about _everyone_, all of this."

Morgana sighed again, seeming almost near tears – her eyes were red when she walked closer, sincere and earnest. "Just please, Merlin – whatever you do, whatever happens…just promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you'll at least do that – at least, expect that something might go wrong, however much you trust her." Morgana bit her lip, her frown deepening with concern. "You're my _friend_, Merlin, and I don't want to see something terrible happen to you."

_It won't_ – he wanted to say, but was frozen by the words that he knew to be true, he'd already known but hearing them said was entirely different from that – _you're my friend, Merlin_. Morgana's face was completely honest, her constant sarcasm and aloofness washed away by her fear for him – despite the situation, the content that the simple phrase was hiding in, Merlin couldn't help but break into a smile at her words.

"I'm always careful," replied Merlin softly, smiling. "And you don't have to worry. I'll watch out – but there won't be any need."

Morgana held his gaze for a moment longer before nodding rather reluctantly, backing away. "I hope you're right," murmured Morgana slowly, doubtfully. "And I wish you luck."

Merlin nodded as he took a step back, still smiling – it was obvious the conversation was over, with everything that needed to be said already heard. "Thank you, Morgana," said Merlin firmly, putting all the sincerity he had into those words. "Really. And please – just try and stop worrying. You could probably use a good night's sleep just as much as the rest of us."

With that, smiled again and turned, making towards the door. Morgana's voice was quiet, soft enough to hide the lingering fear and apprehension that she felt, as it floated out past the door – just in time for it to swing heavily shut, locking him out and her in.

"Good night, Merlin."

* * *

**So...your hint to (all the crap) that happens in the next chapter is this: the last line of this one. I'm super excited for the next one, incidentally - so excited that I actually just kind of plowed right on ahead once I finished typing this one, rather than leaning back and heaving a huge sigh of relief like I normally do. You approve? Yeah, thought so. Well, I suspect the next chapter will be up next week, rather than two weeks from now. And then...well. *evil laugh* We'll see. **

**Thanks for reading, and please - 100 reviews, guys! I believe in you. :) **


	25. Red-Handed

**Hello, and sorry for the wait – I know I said after posting the last one that I was already started on this chapter, and that was true…but this chapter turned into another monster chapter and also stuff, so there's that. And then also, recently – the second season of my second-favorite show in the universe, Marvel's **_**Daredevil**_**, came out a few weeks ago. I've been pretty obsessed, and then there's the Daredevil story that I'm also writing because that show's so freaking good…so, if you like that show, feel free to check it out. Anyway. **

**One thing I wanted to mention – so, I know I probably should have done this literally years ago…but, a few weeks ago, I did the impossible and actually **_**wrote**__**out**_** an **_**outline**_** for the rest of this story. Shocking, despite the fact that I love outlines and regularly advise people to use them. For some reason, I never seem to get around to using them for my stories. I just keep my plots…in my head. **

**I know, I know. **

**But, the **_**point**_** – I **_**do**_** love outlines, because they really work and after writing the full outline for **_**this, **_**I feel like I finally have a map that will really, really help in making this story go where I want it to. Therefore, from this point onwards – things are happening. Not that they haven't been before, but as you've all probably noticed, I tend to focus **_**a lot **_**on the fallout of things rather than new things happening. It's annoying…especially for me, when I know exactly what I **_**want**_** to happen cuz it'll be **_**awesome**_** except it's taking **_**forever**_**…**

**Anyway, my **_**point**_** – this is the place in the plot where things, finally, begin to happen. I'm really excited. **

**Oh yeah and also – thank so much to everyone who's reviewed, read, generally supported this! I love you all, and remember…100 reviews! Let's do this. **

**Chapter 25: Red-Handed**

_Boom, boom, boom_. The sound refused to stop, refused to falter in its approach – like a drum pounding onwards to announce a death sentence. Every time it pulsed, her heart seemed to leap in time with it – like fuel to the flames for her shaking hands, frantic feet, but there wasn't anything to do.

_Boom – boom – BOOM_ –

She took a hysterical breath, heart pounding as she glanced around, _again_ – with the same result. She'd backed herself into a corner, and there was nowhere to go. The cold, blank walls of the dead-end corridor she'd so blindly stumbled into were unforgiving, just as much as the deafening sound of footsteps approaching, nearer and nearer.

Her breath ripped out of her chest, tearing a hopeless sob from within – _not again, not now, why does it always have to be this way_ – but her hands were clasped tight at her sides, unwavering. _I won't_. She wouldn't give in.

The final seconds ticked by, agonizingly slowly – _BOOM_, BOOM – she flinched away as they rounded the corner, hard faces and sharp weapons glittering in the torchlight.

Prince Arthur stood unmoving for a moment, simply glaring at her – the contempt was obvious on his face. "Seize her," ordered the prince finally, his words sharp and irrevocable. "And this time, throw her in the dungeons where she belongs."

_I'm sorry_. But she didn't bother to say it, because it was obvious that Arthur was furious and not about to listen to anything she had to say – Elsa let herself go limp, tears running hot trails down her face as the guards roughly took her arms and marched her away. _Merlin… you were wrong_.

_**Earlier that night…**_

When Merlin let himself into Arthur's chambers, still mulling over everything that Morgana had said, he found the prince standing at the windowsill across the room, standing still and silent as he stared down into the darkening courtyard. Merlin had to internally sigh, because this sight was familiar – and never good. Arthur was in a _thinking_ mood.

The prince didn't move as Merlin entered the room audibly, his boots scuffing the floor. After sending an aimless glance around the room, Merlin approached Arthur's back, drawing a breath as he prepared to speak.

"You can go, Merlin," said Arthur quietly, beating Merlin to it. "Might as well get some sleep."

_How is it that the only time he ever tells me to sleep, is when I have to stay and talk to him instead?_ Merlin tilted his head with raised eyebrows, letting his arms flop to his sides. "I just wanted to make sure that you….were alright?"

Arthur let out a short sigh. "I _am_, so you can go."

_Wait for it…_Merlin didn't move, just stayed silent and patient. This always worked out in one of two ways – either Arthur would shout again for Merlin to go, sometimes throwing a hard and heavy object to make his point clear, _or_ Arthur would wait a few seconds before sighing and quietly spitting out whatever his problem was. This time was no exception – after ten seconds of silence, he spoke.

"Look, Merlin, it's nice to see that you've been working on those manners of yours, but still, I'm not the one you should be worrying about…or, _I_ should be worrying about, anyway." Arthur finished speaking in a mutter, seeming to tilt his head back down to stare again at the dark courtyard.

_Thought so._ "You're worried about Elsa."

Arthur snorted slightly, his shoulders shifting. "You're not?"

Merlin took in a silent, deep breath before speaking, deliberating on what to say. "Well, I'm not…_not_ worried about her," said Merlin slowly, trying to find the right words. "I mean, I guess I am a little, but there really isn't any reason to be. No one has any reason to suspect her, so there's not much that can happen to her in one night…"

After a short moment, Arthur turned around deliberately, pinning Merlin down with a flat, almost exasperated stare. "I wasn't worried for her _wellbeing_," retorted Arthur snappily, rolling his eyes. "Though I shouldn't be surprised that _you_ were…"

It took Merlin a second to catch up, and when he did – a frown immediately etched itself onto his face, along with the return of the heavy feeling to his chest. "You were worried about what _she_ might do?" Merlin's question was sharp, incredulous but not really a question, because the look on Arthur's face already answered it. "Arthur, she's already – we already know, she's _definitely_ on our side, and there's no way she'd ever do anything –" Arthur cut into Merlin's rushed defense, an irritated scowl beginning to set in on his face.

"Yes, Merlin, I know, I don't need to hear your speech again," said Arthur, annoyed. "I'm well aware that you're completely sold on the idea that Elsa is _good_, on _our_ side, all that. I suppose I'm just not as capable as you at believing something so fully with barely enough proof to drink a toast at."

_I don't need proof – I know_. Merlin wanted to bite out the words, somehow make Arthur see how impossible it was for Elsa to be evil – but he didn't, and waited, watching as Arthur heaved a sigh and turned halfway back towards the window, his eyes drifting away.

"That doesn't change the fact…that I still just can't – can't _believe_, completely, that she is good. Almost as if…if I _do_ believe that, then she'll be bound to turn out to be evil after all. I _saw_ her help us, fighting against Dezyra, and yet…she's still a _sorceress_." Upon saying the word, Arthur's head shook in a slight shudder, as if coming to the new realization that he was harboring a sorceress in the castle. "I shouldn't even be _trying_ to believe that she's good…"

The words were like weights being added to the heaviness accumulating in Merlin's chest – they fell hard and heavy, cold but already familiar. He refused to think about it, instead keeping Elsa's face in his mind and pushing onwards – farther and farther out onto the limb that he seemed to be dangling from constantly, these days. "Arthur – you already know that not all magic has to be evil. The druids, and that little boy…and Elsa, she didn't want her magic, she was born with it, she can't help it –"

Arthur ran a hand over his face tiredly, shaking his head. "The druids are different – they practice peace, they live in isolation…and Elsa, well – I don't know what she is."

"Not _evil_, at least."

The prince sighed harshly, irritation more than apparent, upon hearing the words. "You keep _saying_ that, Merlin, but you don't _know_. That's the thing – we just don't know. That's why I'm worried." He was clearly getting more agitated, restless – Merlin plowed right on ahead, not stopping to think.

"Well, you don't have to be worried, then, because I _do_ know, and she's not."

"You _don't_!" Arthur exploded, his voice reverberating sharply across the walls. Merlin took a startled step back as Arthur spun around, face resolute. "You can't _know_ that, Merlin! Anything could happen!"

Arthur stared for a moment with a scowl at Merlin's rather stubborn expression, before finally shaking his head quickly and waving a dismissing hand at the servant. "Oh, just go and – try to make yourself useful somewhere," muttered Arthur, turning away.

"I –" Merlin started – he didn't even know what he was going to say, but Arthur cut him off anyway.

"Get _out_."

After a second standing there, mouth open with whatever unsaid words still within, Merlin abruptly spun on heel and marched away, grinding his teeth silently. He yanked open the heavy chamber door and strode out, letting it slam shut again, before taking of down the hall, shaking his head.

_What a prat of a destined hope for the future anyway – _

_Well, fine then, Arthur, if you want to be that way about it, then you go right ahead and worry your pretty head off all night long. I'm going to bed. _

* * *

_A candle flickers into life, casting a sparse light about the room._

_It reveals smooth stone walls, decorated tastefully with a various shields, standards and hangings. The four-poster bed is carefully made, the blankets tucked in neatly despite the darkened windows indicating that it was night. There is nothing in the room to tell who it belongs to – no clothing, no personal trinkets. _

_That – and one figure, standing silently by the wall, concealed by a heavy and hooded cloak. The figure lifts a hand, the motion seeming to draw the candle's light to it. With a wave of the hand, the light rises into the air – hovering with an unseen force, it floats up to stay just above and behind the figure. With barely a sound, they set off, stepping smoothly towards the door. With another wave, the handle lifts with a click and, silently, the door glides open. _

_Like a ghost, the figure leaves the room, moving soundlessly down the corridor beyond. _

_The darkness seems to press in on the light and the cloaked figure as they travel down corridor after corridor, the stone walls and occasional tapestries and hangings adorning them giving no help at determining the location. Finally they reach a stairwell with a torch hanging on the wall nearby. The figure pauses at the top of the steps before descending, the blue cloak swirling in its wake. _

_Below, the walls are rougher; even more darkness, and more corridors. The figure marches onwards, pausing every so often as if they were unfamiliar with the place. They pass through a gate and, leaving it swinging wide open, continue into a rough-cut tunnel with rock walls; torchlight shines at the end of the tunnel, flickering uncertainly. _

_The figure approaches the light steadily, the cloaked head bowed as if sleepwalking. _

_Rounding the bend, a chorus of surprised grunts and voices sounds – a pair of guards stand outside a barred gateway, the metal framing protruding out from the cave-like walls and ceiling. The men reach out to grasp at their swords, one of them partially drawing it. _

"_Hey! No one should be down here – show yourself!" _

_The cloaked figure stops, raising its head slightly. _

_Then, after just a moment, a hand lifts unhesitatingly – with a flick of the fingers, a pulse emanates throughout the space – the two men are immediately blown backwards, away from the door and into the rough rock wall behind. Hitting the hard wall with a sharp clank, the guards crumple to the ground limply. _

_The figure in the cloak drops its hand and steps outwards again, navigating around the splayed limbs of the two unmoving men and coming to a stop before the barred gate. _

_Sticking its hand out once again, the figure turns its wrist slowly to the side, in time with a quiet _click_ – the gate shakes slightly and swings open loosely, admitting the sole figure standing outside. _

_The room within is cluttered, but impressively so; there are countless chests and boxes, intricately decorated; some objects sparkle, some seem to absorb the light. The figure stops for a moment, looking around from beneath the cloak as if taking it in. No movement – then, as if prompted by a sharp command, the figure starts and moves away, towards a tall shelf crowded with strange objects. _

_The figure raises both hands and steps close to the shelf, moving along it gradually – looking for something. After a short search – it reaches out and grasps an elaborate chest, complete with clawed legs and a large, fancy clasp. The figure lowers the chest, about a forearm in length, to the ground and sits before it, hands sliding off the shiny, dust-free surface. _

_They wave at the chest – almost hesitatingly – but, nothing happens. The lid remains tight, stubbornly in place. Not pausing, the cloaked figure reaches out and places a hand on the chest, straightening and tipping its head back – a quiet stream of strange words sound in the quiet space, accompanied by a faint glow emanating from underneath the hand resting on the chest. _

_With a soft click, the chest's lid springs upward slightly as the mechanism is released. _

_The figure reaches slowly, lifting the lid – the candle still floating behind their head moves forward, casting its glow directly into the contents of the chest. _

_Inside is a long candle, the stand glittering like silver, covered in strange markings and glyphs. The wick is just slightly burned at the tip – other than that, never used. _

_The figure stares for a moment, before reaching a slightly trembling hand into the chest – grasping the candle with careful fingers, the figure pushes itself to its feet, holding the candle out before almost reverently. As they shove themselves to their feet, the hood of the cloak slips back – it falls heavily across the person's back, revealing pale blonde hair and a delicate, feminine face. _

_The woman with white-blonde hair and icy blue eyes stares at the candle as if it is a prize, her eyes abruptly changing to gold as she opens her mouth to speak – _

Morgana shot up into a sitting position, legs kicking and chest heaving, choking down a scream that was part sob.

* * *

"Arthur! _Arthur_!"

The sound of his name being called out harshly, half-whisper and half-shout, drifted faintly through the fog that was sleep – Arthur heard it, yes, but a second after registering the sound, it slipped away back into the darkness. His bed was warm and soft – why bother getting up, wasting energy, trying to find out why someone was calling his name?

The cold hand that touched his bare shoulder, annoyingly shaking his entire frame, did manage to break through the fog. Arthur jerked out of any lingering sleep, blinking rapidly in the dark – _it _is_ dark, still night, why am I waking up_ – a pale face hovering over his bed suddenly snapped into focus. The prince jumped backwards in shock, clutching at his blankets, heart pounding.

"_Morgana_ – what're you _doing_–"

Standing at Arthur's bedside hesitantly, Morgana was breathing heavily as if she'd been running, twisting her hands together nervously – she was in her nightgown, with nothing more than a light layer worn over it. She backed away slightly as Arthur tugged at his blankets self-consciously, sitting up against his pillows and staring at her with wide eyes and an incredulous frown.

"Arthur – something's wrong –" Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, trembling so much he could barely recognize it. She wore a twist of a frown on her pale face, eyes bright with fear.

"What?" The strangeness of the situation had, at least, completely wiped away every trace of sleep lingering in Arthur's body and mind. His head was clear, wide-awake, and his heart was still pounding quickly – now, it was beginning to do so out of concern. "What's wrong, what happened?"

Morgana took in a gasping breath, her eyes darting away for a second before locking back on to his face. "There's – there's someone in the castle, they're breaking into the vaults – they're going to steal something, but I think they might already be down there –"

"Whoa, slow down, just hold on –" Arthur cut off Morgana's rambling, allowing her to gasp in another tight breath and giving time for him to do the same. "How – how do you know all this? Did they – were you attacked? Did they hurt you?" Arthur's voice rose in panicked anger as the chain of thought was voiced – why else would she be here, coming to him? _I swear, if they did – I'll make sure they get locked up for the rest of their worthless lives – _

"No, no – it's not like that, I just – I just know," cut in Morgana, her voice stronger. She met Arthur's eyes steadily, still frowning but more certain – Arthur stared back, unable to ignore the confusion that was setting in.

"But then – how did you find out? And – why didn't you call the guards…" Arthur turned to look towards the door, searching for any sign of the guards standing by but there were none – it didn't make sense. _Why did she come to me first...?_

Morgana's eyes darted away again as soon as Arthur voiced his questions, ducking her head as she let out a tight breath. "Look – it doesn't matter, I just _do_, and if you don't hurry and get down there then they'll probably get away, hurting who knows how many people in the process –"

Arthur sighed in exasperation, straightening reluctantly. "Morgana…"

"_Please_, Arthur!" She cried out, voice cracking, eyes wide with urgency – her black hair bounced as she made her point, hands clenched tight. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important."

She stood waiting for his answer, eyes still bright with conviction – Arthur internally sighed again, sensing already that he had no choice but to do as she wanted. Even though things weren't the same as they used to be – the days when Arthur would do anything he could to get the Lady Morgana's attention and approval had passed, somewhere along the road, but she was still practically his sister. And after all – if she _was_ right, and someone _was_ breaking into the vaults…then it was his duty, nonetheless. He couldn't just ignore it.

"Fine," sighed Arthur, moving to swing his legs over to the side of the bed and reaching down to find his boots. In the past, he might have been self-conscious to let Morgana see his with just trousers on – but, not anymore. After all, it wasn't the _first_ time she'd seen him with no shirt on, and it didn't matter anyway.

Morgana backed away, audibly breathing out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Arthur," she murmured, turning away as he rose to get dressed.

In moments, Arthur had finished buckling on his sword belt and was tugging on his jacket rather tersely, striding to the wall by the door to find a torch. Morgana followed after him hastily, arms held at her sides and expression tense. Wrenching open the heavy wooden doors to his chambers, Arthur held it open for Morgana ironically, gesturing.

"Well, now that we're going, d'you feel like telling me how you know this after all?"

Morgana gave Arthur a fleeting glance with wide eyes before turning as they strode down the hall together. "It doesn't really matter, Arthur."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur blew out an exasperated sigh, unable to help feeling disgruntled. "So, just do what you say and don't ask any questions, is that right?" asked Arthur sarcastically, glaring at Morgana out of the corner of his eye.

He was expecting sarcasm and mockery in return – that was the usual, between them – but instead, Morgana just glanced back at him quickly, her frown firmly in place. "Yes, that would be nice," muttered the dark-haired woman quietly, turning back and increasing her pace. "Come on – let's hurry."

_She is worried, isn't she?_ Arthur frowned at Morgana's stiff back that was steadily getting farther ahead of him – he quickened his pace to catch up, watching her closely. It was rare for Morgana to be so serious about anything – thinking about it, the first thing that came to mind was the incident with the druid boy, Mordred. That had been an occasion where Morgana had been completely and totally involved, resolved to do whatever she could to help – not even sparing a moment for jokes or lightheartedness, as was normal for her. And here she was again, dead serious and urgent -

It wasn't that Arthur didn't believe Morgana when she said that someone was breaking into the vaults – he did, or at least, he believed that something must be happening. However, with the lack of guards and any other activity in the castle, it seemed unlikely that Morgana could even find out about such a thing – and if she _wasn't_ attacked, then how did she know? He couldn't help being a little skeptical, especially with Morgana's past record of overreacting and making impulsive decisions. She was strong-headed, spontaneous – and not always right.

But even if she was right – it shouldn't be that much cause for concern, anyway. If someone was breaking into the vaults, then he and Morgana would catch them before they got the chance or perhaps even in the act. One or two people infiltrating the depths of the castle wouldn't be too much of a problem, anyway. _We'll take care of it, and then I'll be able to go back to sleep_.

Arthur told himself that, anyway, but watching Morgana march along with that pinched expression, a hint of nervous anticipation began to replace his confidence.

They walked through the dark halls in silence – Arthur kept an eye out for anything strange, looking for guards patrolling or anything out of place, but they had encountered nothing so far as they began to descend down into the lower levels of the castle. Arthur found it slightly disturbing how they didn't even run into any of the guards who should be making rounds throughout the castle every so often – was Camelot's security really that bad, after all?

With too much ease, they made their way through the complex series of passages leading to the vaults – finally coming to the section where the first gate was, Arthur unconsciously slowed to a stop, staring ahead. Beside him, Morgana paused too – he paid her no mind, looking ahead with rapidly growing concern.

The barred gate that should be closed and locked, as it always was regardless of the time of day or night, was not – instead, it was swinging wide open, unchecked. There was no key in sight – of course, the guards in charge of watching over the vaults had copies of the key for this particular gate. Still – it should be locked.

"That's not right..." said Arthur into the silence, taking a half step forward before turning to look back at Morgana – _she must be right after all, then; how did she know?_ He was about to ask but stopped, thrown off guard once again, when he saw Morgana. She stood absolutely still, staring at the sight before them – just an open gate, swinging where its user had left it, but her face was drawn pale once again, mouth open and lips trembling. She seemed to be shocked – as if she hadn't believed in her promise that someone was breaking into the vaults, herself.

Drawing a shaking breath and glancing quickly at Arthur, Morgana ducked her head to look away from the gate. "I didn't – I wasn't sure," breathed Morgana uncertainly, confirming Arthur's thought. Her words were so quiet, she could have almost been talking to herself. Taking a rather gasping breath, she blinked and shook her head, eyes wide with wonder and a hint of dread. "I wasn't sure, I thought – I'd take you down here and it'd be nothing and you'd call me foolish, send me back to bed – but…But this means – she's already _down_ there…"

Arthur stared at her for a moment, feeling what was the beginnings of the rush of adrenaline that any situation like this always brought, starting to rush through his veins. _She?_ "Morgana?" Her hair bouncing with the motion, she looked up quickly, eyes going to Arthur in a disoriented sort of way.

Morgana glanced at the gate again, obviously thinking quickly – Arthur noted the exact moment a realization hit her. Morgana's eyes lit up with panic and she jumped, moving closer to Arthur in an instant – she grabbed at his arm, urgency written all over her face.

"Arthur, there's something else – we have to be careful," said Morgana quietly, urgent and tense. Her eyes were compelling, dark and completely serious. "This – the person who's breaking into the vaults – they're using magic. _Strong_ magic."

_What?_ That word alone was like taboo, immediately sending his heart racing and a heavy feeling of dread, dropped straight into his gut – "What – _magic_? Morgana, how d'you – why didn't you tell me _sooner_?" Voice incredulous, Arthur's words were sharp like knives – but Morgana held his gaze, unflinching.

"I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure that it was even real," replied Morgana quickly, her tone wanting to get the conversation over with. "I thought I might have been wrong, but this proves that I wasn't, so I'm telling you now. They're using magic, and they already might've hurt someone if they've gotten this far –"

"Wait, _stop_. What do you mean, you weren't sure? How do you know all this, anyway? And who are _they_?" Arthur asked hurriedly, all his doubt gone – Morgana averted her gaze, beginning to pull away, but this time Arthur grasped her arm to hold her in place, pinning her down with a hard glare. "Morgana, _tell_ me."

"I…" Morgana started, eyes flickering – she met Arthur's gaze hesitantly, silently begging him to let it go, but Arthur didn't budge. _I've come this far – I deserve to know_. Morgana must have seen his resolve in his eyes – she let out a slow sigh, looking away. "It's…it's complicated."

"So _un_complicate it."

The young woman rolled her eyes slightly, scoffing lightly. After a short moment, she bit her lip, glancing back down the corridor they still needed to go down – Arthur knew they were losing valuable time, but still. _I need to know_. Finally, Morgana bit her lip and turned back, making her decision.

"I dreamt it, Arthur," murmured Morgana softly, her eyes fixed firmly on a spot somewhere behind Arthur – away from his gaze. Arthur scarcely registered her words, as she spoke them – it didn't make sense, was barely comprehendible, at first. "My dreams – they come true sometimes, and recently they _have_ been, so I thought – when I dreamt about this, I thought it must have been true and I couldn't just ignore it like I usually do –" She broke off as her words began to run together, clashing together in what must have been rising panic –

Arthur took a moment to blink, processing what she'd said – _dreamt it, literally? how does that make sense_ – it didn't really work. "_What_? – How…that doesn't make any sense." Arthur stared at her in confusion, stupefied, as Morgana backed away and wiped at her forehead wearily.

"I _know_ it doesn't, Arthur, why do you think I didn't want to tell you? Now can we just _go_, before something _happens_ –"

Morgana turned and strode off down the corridor with Arthur stumbling blankly behind, his steps growing more and more reluctant. The rush of emotions thrown at him so disorderly – worry, concern, panic, and now utter confusion – his mind seemed to be shuddering to a halt, refusing to process. This truly felt like a dream now, ridiculous and impossible to comprehend because it wasn't _real_ and there was really no point trying to rationalize, was there?

Except that his heart was still racing uncomfortably, and that leaden feeling was still swirling around in his gut, telling him to _do something_ and do it quick before something even worse happened – and something told him that the _even worse_ was not far off…shaking his head roughly as if to clear his thoughts, Arthur stumbled to a halt, running a hand through his hair. She must have heard him stop – Morgana paused and turned around after a second, looking back at him.

"_Arthur_ – please, we don't have _time_ – we need to…" Her eyes were pleading and desperate – Arthur hadn't seen Morgana looking like this in a long time, and it wasn't a welcome change. She was clearly terrified, and all because – a _dream_? That came true? _How_?

"Morgana, you do _realize_, you're – this isn't making any _sense_," sighed Arthur, shrugging and swinging his arms slightly, as if to encompass their entire surroundings, the whole thing. It was how he felt, anyway – everything, from Morgana's shaking frame to the rough stone walls, their jagged shadows flickering uncertainly in the pale lighting…everything. It didn't make sense. "I don't understand. How could – Morgana, dreams don't come true, you _couldn't_ have dreamt about this, so what…" He trailed off, staring at her in bewilderment. _How? _The word echoed around in his mind, bouncing back and forth repeatedly.

Morgana began to shake her head, almost unconsciously, her eyes sparkling strangely in the light – filling up with tears. "Arthur…I don't know, I don't understand either, but my dreams _do_ come true, and we have to – if we don't stop this one…if we don't stop her…" Her voice faltered and faded away as she sniffed, gasping silently for breath.

Seeing her crying, miserable, in such pain – Arthur's heart clenched and it physically pained him not to go to her, somehow comfort Morgana who was the closest thing he had to a sister – but his confusion was still like a cloud of fog around his head, blurring everything. If only he could _see_ –

But, wait – _her_?

Arthur blinked, wondering if he'd misheard – but no, he was sure…she'd said _her_. The person breaking into the vaults, then, was female – a woman – and she also had magic – _strong_ magic – but then…the pieces fell into place so easily, so effortlessly, that Arthur thought he must be wrong. Surely, it couldn't be – but who else? Even if Morgana _had_ dreamt about it, impossibly – she'd already been right about the gate, about someone being down there…

His heart was suddenly thumping in his throat, and Arthur swallowed heavily, finding himself panting, his veins seeming to be running with fire rather than blood. "Morgana," said Arthur slowly, staring at her blankly – his mouth was dry like sand, every muscle screaming at the realization. "Who – who was it, that you saw…in your dream? Who's breaking into the vaults?"

Perhaps his voice was too knowing – his tone must have said what his words didn't, because Morgana's eyes sharpened immediately, and she straightened, staring at him with wide eyes. He already knew – he knew and he should've bloody _known_, and Morgana surely knew that he knew, as well – she gulped, tilting her head and opening her mouth hesitantly, almost as if she were afraid to voice it. To make it real.

But she did. "It…it's that new woman. Elsa." Morgana's eyes were guarded, but only to an extent – she was aware, then, that Arthur knew about Elsa. About the _witch_, as it so happened. "Arthur, she – Elsa has magic."

_Yes, she does, doesn't she. _His fists were clenched, and he was doing his best not to clench them harder, thinking that he'd better not accidently sprain his wrist or something – his teeth were grinding together uncontrollably, and Arthur simply stood there for a moment, breathing _steadily_ and firmly deciding _not_ to punch the passage wall. That would not be productive. Unlike the act of catching _Elsa_, and then perhaps never again listening to a certain _somebody_…

"Damn him," growled Arthur under his breath, breathing hard through his nose. "Damn that _idiot_…" _Why did I ever listen to him in the first place? Idiot Merlin, naïve enough to trust a sorceress and think he knows everything about her too… _It was perhaps a good thing that his manservant was nowhere in the vicinity, because Arthur's rage was boiling to the point where if Merlin _had_ been around, he might just have throttled the boy in anger. _I should've bloody known…_

"Arthur?" Morgana's voice trembled still, and Arthur snapped his gaze up to her. She was frowning at him, hesitant again – worried, probably, but really there was no need to be. Now, Arthur knew what he was doing, and knew what to do. There was no doubt, this time – no confusion of morals, no annoying _Merlin_ in his ear. Rolling his shoulders slightly, Arthur set his jaw and reached to his side, seamlessly drawing his sword from its sheath.

"Well, then," said Arthur in a hard voice, stepping forward and past Morgana – her eyes were still wide, watching Arthur with slight suspicion and maybe even concern. _No need_, he thought, taking a deep breath. "Let's go catch ourselves a sorceress."

* * *

**To be continued…**

**Quick A/N: If anyone thinks that second scene where Arthur gets mad at Merlin is weird or OOC or anything, please remember…this story is set just before season 2, which begins with the Cornelius Segan incident. So…shouldn't be too far off the mark. **

**Let me just say…mwahahahaha…ahh, I love this story so much. You really have no idea…but soon, you will! I hope I can post again relatively soon – next week? Let's all keep our fingers crossed. Again, thank you so much to everyone who reads and likes this, and thank you to everyone who has left reviews. Each and every one always inspires me to keep writing and do more. Thank you! **

**~whatswiththemustache **


	26. Guilty

**Finally! Oh my goodness – you know what's the worst thing for a writer? It's not writer's block – it's having a million ideas, but no time to write. Ugh, wouldn't it be wonderful if we could make clones of ourselves and that way have enough time to do everything we need…I think I would have like four. One for doing homework and school, one for managing social life, one for working and one for writing fanfiction. I have so many ideas but no time…. Like, there's been this Sword Art Online/Attack on Titan crossover I've been **_**dying**_** to write, and then of course my Daredevil story which I'm really really pleased with, btw, and then new awesome fandoms like Legends of Tomorrow and **_**all**_** that **_**possibility**_**, and then of course…the dozens of stories I still would like to write for Merlin. Oh yeah, and all those stories I have on hiatus… -_-**

**I need more time. Life isn't fair. Ughhhh….but anyway. Here's the new chapter! Please tell me what you think…**

**Chapter 26: Guilty**

The last thing she'd known, she couldn't remember. When Elsa woke – her mind was completely blank, devoid of thought, until she saw where she was.

Somewhere she'd never been, didn't remember – _oh God, not this again_ –

The room was dark, lit only by a faint and flickering torchlight from somewhere – still, she could see the surroundings, high walls covered by shelves and cases filled with strange, ancient-looking objects, chests, treasures; cobwebs trailed from everything, reaching up high towards the ceiling. It was strange, completely unknown – it had happened , or perhaps someone else – just someone who wanted to control Elsa, use her for their own agendas. Again.

_Nonono_ – Elsa scrambled to her feet, up from where she'd been sitting on that strange unknown floor, and gasped for breath – instead, it was as if she'd inhaled a mouthful of dust. Stumbling, coughing, she turned, looking aimlessly around because there had to be _something_ – behind her, a barred gate hung open, and beyond that, torches hung from brackets on the wall, revealing a corridor that surely led away, _somewhere – _Elsa started for it hastily, wanting nothing more to get away from here and whatever scheme or plan or trick that this was –

_CLACK – _the sound was sharp, shocking in the quiet of the strange room – Elsa jolted to a halt, leaping back and away from the sound, distantly realizing that she'd kicked something. On the ground, motion stirred – a small hand-sized wooden chest rolled to a halt, lying upside-down with its lid open against the floor. Nothing else – and yet, Elsa's heart still throbbed painfully in her chest, racing with a thunderous pace.

_Just a box. Just a box… _Elsa breathed a sigh of relief, shaking her head. "Just get _out_ of here…" she whispered, gritting her teeth and making to step around the box lying on the ground.

But – she stopped.

There was something about it…some glint, some shine – like the old chest was calling to her. Telling her not to leave just yet…Elsa stood for a moment, unmoving and simply looking at it – just an old wooden box, covered in strange-looking symbols and letters. Another language? It was beautiful, really, despite its age and lack of care, and there was something about it…different. _But what's it doing on the floor…_ Driven by nothing more than an urge, Elsa knelt down and turned over the box, squinting to see it better.

Inside…was nothing. It was empty.

There was only a soft-looking cushion, seemingly sewn onto the sides of the box, sporting a dark dust-free depression in its middle. Something was obviously missing.

Elsa didn't need the sinking feeling in her gut, the heaviness in her chest to tell her what she already knew. Something was wrong, very wrong. Whatever had been in the box – whoever brought her here, without her knowing, and _why_ – but what could she do –

She had to tell Merlin. _He'll know what to do._ The thought was immediate, an obvious jump.

Of course, first thing's first – Elsa didn't even know that she was still _in_ Camelot. She had to get out of there.

Elsa snatched up the strange-looking chest, snapping its lid shut, and stood once again, hurrying through the narrow room towards the open gate at its end –

–and again, stopped dead in her tracks, heart leaping frantically into her throat.

In the corridor just beyond the gate – two dark shapes lay upon the floor, and at first she had no idea what they were – but a second later, she _saw_, and had to clap a hand to her mouth in order not to cry out. Two men – guards, dressed in chainmail and equipped with swords, helms – fallen to the ground, unconscious and perhaps even dead. Upon their chests, the colors of red and gold gleamed – the colors of Camelot. Elsa couldn't help but feel slightly relieved, despite everything.

_I'm still in Camelot. Thank goodness. _

Even so – whoever had done this, they were most likely nearby. Elsa _had_ to get out of there –

"_Halt_!"

The word tore sharply through the place like a whiplash – Elsa jerked her head up, eyes darting to find its source. It was easy – rushing through the dim corridor, with a pale and dark-haired woman at his heels, was Prince Arthur. In one of his hands was a drawn sword, in the other a flaming torch. For a spit-second Elsa was relieved, and she took a rushing step forward with a smile starting to light up her eyes–

–and then, she saw his face. How it was completely twisted in anger…rage, even. It threw her, and she paused, the dread already rushing back again.

"Don't take another step!" growled Arthur as he neared, his tone lowering in a deadly way. His sky-colored eyes had darkened to the hue of a storm, ready to let loose all its terrible power. "You're under arrest."

A moment of simmering, charged silence – _what?_ Elsa opened her mouth blankly, only to sputter out a sound of incomprehension. "What?" She repeated, aloud this time, her voice breathy and incredulous. Her heart was thundering again, the nausea returned to her stomach once more. "What're you – what, _why_? What is going…"

"I _said_, you're under arrest. I won't repeat myself again." Arthur's glare was piercing, his tone dripping with venom.

Every word was like a blow to the head. Elsa's chest hurt, her eyes stung. _But I…_ "…but, _why_? You can't just arrest me for nothing!" _Why are you so angry?_ She'd thought Arthur was kind, understanding – Merlin had been so adamant that Arthur was a good man. And yet, here he was.

Behind him, the dark-haired woman's gaze flickered from Arthur to Elsa – her eyes were narrowed and suspicious. Arthur just raised his eyebrows and shook his head, almost bitterly. "Nothing? Well haven't you got some nerve…" He let out a harsh laugh, lacking even a drop of humor. "You're _stealing_ from the vaults of Camelot, and besides that, there's the obvious. _You practice magic." _Arthur huffed another derisive laugh, sneering at her.

"You're a _sorceress. _That's more than enough reason to arrest you."

Oh.

_Sorceress._

The corners of her eyes may have just begun to tingle, burning infuriatingly, and the sob of anguish that might have been not too far off may have begun to rise in her chest. Elsa choked it down though, blinking hard, clenching her jaw – ignoring the hot and shameful feeling of dread flooding her body, making her limbs heavy and heart heavier.

No – she was sick of crying, of being the weak one. _No more_.

Instead – she straightened, looking Arthur square in the eye; the deep breath she shook only trembled in the slightest. Because – _practice_ magic? _I've never even opened a magic book!_ And – _stealing_? She'd woken there, recent memories blank, with no idea of what was going on – and they were going to blame it on _her_?

Instead – it was anger that lit a fire in her chest.

"Excuse me," said Elsa slowly, carefully – the fire simmered, ready to explode. "but I was _not_ stealing from these vaults." Her arms slowly lowered to her sides, the empty chest still held loosely in her left.

"Yes, you were!" It was the dark-haired woman, leaping a step forward with an incredulous frown on her face – her eyes were wide and determined, but wary, also. She was wearing a nightgown, Elsa noticed, and there were dark circles under her eyes. "Don't try to deny it!" Deliberately, the woman's eyes lowered – aimed at the wooden chest in Elsa's hand.

_Oh, really? _The urge to laugh and scream that _she hadn't done it_ almost seized her, but Elsa bit it down. "_This?_" Elsa lifted up the closed chest, eyebrows raised and hands clenched tight. "It's _empty_. I didn't _steal_ anything!" As she spoke, she tossed the box at the woman – she only barely caught it, and in Elsa's anger, a surge of pleasure rose within her at seeing the chest almost slip through the other woman's fingers.

The woman snapped open the chest and stared for second, eyes wide, as Arthur watched with concern. Then – "What did you do with it?!" Accusing, angry – it was like another spark, another push. Elsa seethed.

"I didn't _do_ anything, I just _woke up_ here – I have no idea how I _got_ here –"

Arthur scoffed angrily, rolling his eyes. "Like we're going to believe that one again," said the furious prince. "And I suppose these guards just knocked themselves out?"

"You think _I_ did that?" _As if I even know how!_

"Well, there's not exactly anyone else here, is there?" The pale woman asked harshly, her knowing tone grating on Elsa's already fraying nerves. She gritted her teeth, breathing heavily through her nostrils – and then she felt it.

A tingling, brushing sensation against her fingertips. It spread up her hands, up her arms – she hadn't felt it in a while now. Not for a few days. But – she could never forget it. Her magic. The anger coursing through her was teasing it, _tempting_ it to lash out, and these two idiots picking a fight with her – they were not helping in the least.

Elsa clenched her hands even tighter, balling them into fists, and glared at Arthur and the woman. "You have no idea just what is going on here –" _I need to stop._ She knew, but she _didn't_ – didn't want to. It was a selfish, greedy thing, to want to come out on top in an argument, but she did – it just wasn't right. How could they think that, just because she had magic, it made her guilty of a crime that wasn't even committed? and that her word was meaningless?

It wasn't fair. "You don't know how easy you have it!" shouted Elsa, scowling at the two. "To be _different_, to never be able to be yourself – you have no idea! You think we _chose_ this? I don't _want_ magic! And yet, here I am being persecuted and _punished_ for it!"

That feeling – it spread, thickening, becoming real, and Elsa knew that the air around her hands was growing cold, but she didn't care. Arthur and the woman's eyes were widening, and they both took a half-step back, wary.

But Elsa wasn't done. "Any _one_ of you could have it! Without even knowing! And yet you hunt those with it, your own kind, like animals – you slaughter them mercilessly, despite what they have or haven't done – you're _worse_! Sometimes –" Elsa broke off, panting slightly, staring at the two nobles before her. _Sometimes, I think that people like Dezyra are right._

Elsa set her jaw, eyes hardening. "You're the monsters."

With her eyes dark, her hands out at her sides, the air around her thickening and beginning to freeze – she must have been an ominous sight. Both Arthur and the woman had a hint of fear in their eyes, and Elsa almost smiled, before catching herself – the guilt for that was even stronger than her anger, washing through it. She _wouldn't_ be like Dezyra, no matter what –

It was then.

Her vision seemed to crack, the world fading –

– _a candle flickered into life, casting a faint light around a strange room – _

– _a hand flourished before her, causing the light to rise into the air, hovering eerily towards the dark ceiling – corridors passed, blinking in and out of focus – turning, bending, spiraling down stairwells and into darker tunnels – _

– _two men rushed up, ready to brandish their swords, but a hand waved before her again and they both flew back, into the wall – then she was moving again, through a barred gate, into a room with dozens of boxes and chests and strange objects, lifting one down from a high shelf, slowly removing an elaborate candle and murmuring some strange words that weren't hers – but that's when she realized that those hands were _hers_ and that _she'd_ done those things – _

Elsa gasped, snapping back to awareness only to find gravity pulling her down – her back slammed sharply into the metal gate behind her, and her hands scraped against the rusted material as she hurried to catch herself–

A few steps in front of her, Arthur and the pale woman were standing stiffly, watching her with tight frowns of badly concealed confusion on their faces – Elsa pushed herself back onto her feet roughly, ignoring the prickling, stinging sensation that burning on the palms of her hands. Standing there, hunched over slightly, she fought to catch her breath – _when did I get so out of breath anyway?_ – fought to stay on her feet, despite the sharp tightness closing in on her chest once again, and the headache that was more than just that, surely –

She had to shut her eyes for a moment, squeezing them hard. _So it was me._

Despite her efforts, her breath refused to be caught; Elsa's gasps of air came harder and more desperate, even though she did try to choke them down. She turned quickly, wobbling on her ankles, looking down at the two guards lying on the ground, _unconscious_ or _dead_ – her hands clasped tightly over her mouth, and it was probably a good thing – at least, Arthur and his friend wouldn't hear her if she started sobbing. _This was me?_

There was no doubt in Elsa's mind about whatever it was she'd seen – flashback, memory, whatever – it didn't matter _why_ or _how_, because she knew. She'd felt it, while seeing those images – it had happened. In the time that she'd blacked out, she'd somehow done all that. Elsa scoured her mind for a memory of _why_, for what in the hell had gone through her head, but she couldn't remember – it was as if it were a dream, occurring without rhyme or reason, except it _wasn't_.

It had really _happened_, and Elsa had really used magic to break into these vaults and steal some strange-looking candle, hurting or maybe even _killing_ two innocents in the process. And Arthur and that woman were right. But, why – how did it come to this …_how can I be so out of control of not only my powers, but my own mind?_

Elsa curled her fingers into fists, pulling them away from her face, as the thought rang about in her mind. The answer was clear to her _– I can't. Not here_. She wouldn't hurt anyone else – not Arthur or the woman, not any of these people, even if they did think of her as a monster –

_Of course, they might not even be wrong – _

Lifting her tightly balled fists into the air before her with her elbows bent, forearms pulled back as if she were about to spring, Elsa turned back to face the two people standing in her way, wearing a pained frown. Both Arthur and the lady were as defiant as ever – Arthur raised his sword higher into the air, narrowing his eyes, as Elsa squared her shoulders in determination.

"You're right," breathed Elsa as they stared at her, the tension growing with every second. The heat of tears pressed against her eyes but she didn't care, didn't blink. "It was me. I'm dangerous, I can't _control_ myself – but I can't stay here, either. I can't hurt anyone else, so I have to – I need to go, and I'm sorry –" _Please, help me keep it together this time_. She gritted her teeth and swallowed her fear, forcing her fists to relax.

Her body didn't want to let it out, but she _had_ to – Arthur and the woman's eyes simultaneously widened, and they began to move back, ducking away, but it was too late –

Her hands opened wide to release a blinding white-blue light, shining throughout the corridor and down into the hallways beyond – it took nearly all of Elsa's concentration to keep the light, the _power_, in check, but she did. Slowly, carefully – it seemed like ages, an eternity, as she let the ice ease out from her palms, but in reality it must have been just a few seconds – the ice streamed forth, fluid and free like a crystal blue ribbon, towards the two people who were trying to back away, hunched down protectively. Once the magic reached the ground at their feet, though, it seemed to _click – _glinting with a hard, more substantial sheen, it raced, leaping and splashing like liquid, then solidifying into its true, frozen form in just seconds–

It only took a short moment for her to wait, letting her powers stream loose, before it was done – on opposite sides of the corridor before her, pushed up against the stone walls, her ice created a sharp and unique design as it wove around Arthur and the lady. They were immobilized, held in place by the ice that trapped their feet in place – Elsa had to wince on behalf of the woman and her bare feet – and sloped in sweeping swirls and curving tendrils up towards the ceiling. Both were nearly encased in the ice, and yet – Elsa had been sure to make it so that her ice never actually touched either. The two nobles cried out in panic, stiffening in order to stay out of contact with the ice – and by doing so, stayed safe.

_Thank goodness_ – Elsa breathed a quick sigh of relief upon seeing that it had worked, before pulling her elbows in close to her body, clenching her hands back into fists once more. _Please…_

She waited for a moment, ready for the faint blue light that still surrounded her to fade away – but the seconds ticked by, and still, there was no change. Nothing.

"No…" Elsa stared with wide eyes at her hands, clenched tight – her magic was practically seeping from inside them, unfurling into delicate wisps that arced and trailed off into the air. _Why? Why won't it stop?_

But there was nothing she could do. The magic was still rolling off her in thick droves, eager to be released in larger amounts – and that meant that anything could set her off. If something happened – if Camelot's soldiers attacked her… and that was getting more and more likely by the second. Almost as if he'd read her mind, Arthur spoke up angrily from inside his restraints of ice.

"Don't think for a moment that you can get away with this! After all this, you're definitely going to pay – I'm going to see to it that you are punished for your crimes against Camelot!" shouted Arthur, gritting his teeth as he tried to shake free his sword, still extended out before him – however, it was actually encased in ice up to the hilt. Surely it wouldn't budge for a while, or at least not until Arthur could wear away enough of the ice surrounding it.

"We'll never let you hurt the people of Camelot!" cried the black-haired lady in addition – her voice was as defiant as ever, despite the bars of ice surrounding her.

Everything seemed to be growing heavy around her, impossible to handle. Elsa shook her head, clutching both hands tight against her chest with a quiet sob. "Oh, don't you _see_?" muttered Elsa, sniffing – her tone was low, quiet, and yet her words were sharp and clear. "I don't _want_ to – I'm trying…" _But it's not enough_. Elsa clenched her jaw and shook her head, pulling her fists closer into her chest as she rushed between the two people she'd trapped. Finally, her tears broke free, tracing warm trails down her cheeks.

Not bothering to try and hold back her tears, Elsa stumbled down the corridor, blindly turning whenever she reached an intersection – her ice streamed after her, sending sheets of blue-silver frost across the floor, over the walls. It was thin, fleeting, sure to melt soon – if her powers would even _allow_ that – the thought caused a jolt in her thinking, and she wondered if her ice would even thaw. But, then Arthur and that woman would be trapped, if the ice _didn't_ melt –

_Then they could be trapped forever – _a shout of anguish tore through the corridor, reaching her ears before she realized that she'd been the one to scream – with a pang of frustration, determination, _despair_ searing through her, Elsa felt her magic _twist_. It buckled, with the ice flowing around her cracking and seeming to crumple inwards – Elsa clenched her teeth with a slight groan, steeling her resolve.

It was almost painful, but she did it – somehow Elsa drew her magic back within her, locking it tightly away. She wouldn't let it out again, not like this – not for anything. _I'm too dangerous…_

But that also meant…

_I can't get away. I can't run. _

Without her magic, Elsa would never make it out of Camelot. And with her magic, she could destroy everything.

From down the corridors behind her, shouts and the sound of hurried movement drifted towards her – moments later it was the pounding of footsteps, growing closer and louder. _They're coming_.

Elsa's feet moved on their own accord, and she ran – it was pointless, futile, but she couldn't _not_. The stone halls seemed to spin around her, cutting her off and almost sending her sprawling – this place was a maze, and she, simply a mouse frantically trying to find the escape. Except that there couldn't be one.

With Elsa finally found herself facing a dead end, with three blank and unforgiving walls staring down at her, she stopped – she couldn't force herself to move. It didn't matter, anyway.

The footsteps, echoing sharply through the halls, grew louder, closer – each with a shattering _boom_, crashing down on Elsa's very soul –

She didn't run, and they came.

When Arthur rounded the corner, a pair of guards tight on his heels – he stood glaring for a long moment, condemning her with his gaze along. "Seize her," spat out the prince, his words sharp – decided. "And this time, throw her in the dungeons where she belongs."

Elsa felt herself go limp as the two guards stepped forward, roughly taking her arms, forcing her forward – exhausted thoughts whirled to a halt in her mind, seeming to echo through the hollowness in her chest. _I'm sorry…_

_Merlin, you were wrong…I can't be like you. I'll never be able to control myself…and it's _not_ going to be okay._

* * *

Far from all of that –

Outside of Camelot, beyond forests and rivers and other, less interesting kingdoms – miles, tens of miles away – deep within an old and weathered forest, away from any paths or roads, there was a clearing. More than just that – ruins, worn and run down by time, jutted out from the earth, mostly destroyed. Time and much more had nearly razed them to the ground – the ancient formations of stone were just sharp enough to indicate that the clearing had once been some sort of great arena or hall, with once-elaborate pillars at the edges. At the center, a sort of altar barely stood – a slab of stone with a great chunk torn out of its side sat between four mottled columns.

It had clearly once been an impressive place – one of worship, perhaps, or even…one that could change the course of fate.

Now – it was the dead of night, with sparse clouds skittering across the black sky – the moon was three-quarters full, casting a substantial amount of light out over the treetops. Yet – in the clearing, orange torchlight flickered instead, crowding the faint light of the moon out of relevance. Half a dozen torches had been fastened to the remaining pillars throughout the ruins, centering on the altar – there, beside the slab of stone, a deep tear in the ground glistened freshly in the fire light, the moist dirt giving off a life-like glow.

And directly before the altar – _she_ stood.

Her dark dress rippled smoothly to the ground, unbothered by the dank and dirty conditions. Her hair was as impeccable as ever, flowing smoothly down her back in glossy sheets – Dezyra stood stiffly, facing the altar, her two palms pressed firmly against the cold stone surface.

She'd been standing there for what seemed like hours – jaw clenched, eyes closed tight.

Finally – she gasped, throwing her head back –

Her tense figure only relaxed slightly, before it was enveloped by a pale blue glow – the light grew brighter and more intense until it was nearly blinding, accompanied by a rushing sound. And then – it abruptly cut off, fading back into the relatively black night.

The torches continued to flicker solitarily, offering distant warmth – Dezyra's body finally relaxed, slumping forward onto the stone. She was panting, quivering slightly in the cold – but victorious.

In her right hand, clasped tightly with a palm growing clammy with sweat – was a long, elegant candle. It wore a gleaming silver stand bearing a series of delicate glyphs and markings, and the candle itself was dyed black, with rows of marks carved into its sides – those symbols stood out as clean white lines against the black wax. The candle's wick was long and untouched, save its charred tip.

Dezyra held the beautiful candle out before her in a shaking hand, marveling it with wide eyes – it was incredible.

After seeking it for so long – after all this planning, all this waiting –

Dezyra's cool, smooth voice rang out into the night with a sharp, truly joyous laugh. She gasped for breath after a moment, eyes shining. "Finally," whispered Dezyra as she set the candle down on the stone slab before her – it stood alone, somehow beautiful but also… incredibly ominous looking. Dezyra's eyes strayed from the candle after a moment, though. Instead her gaze landed on her right hand – upon her middle finger sat a rather simple-looking ring, with a delicate seal at its center. "Finally, I'll do it – I'll make them pay for everything."

For once, Dezyra's voice shook and caught on her words – it had no smooth and glossy edge to it, this time, but instead sounded thin and remorseful – but it didn't matter. No one was there to hear it.

Dezyra let her hands fall to her sides, looking back to the candle – her wonderful candle, finally here to light her way and give her hope. Because, her revenge was near –

_It's almost time._

**And on that ominous note…Mwahaha you have no idea how excited I am for the chapters coming up soon…can't wait!**

**Of course, funny that **_**I'm**_** the one saying that seeing how **_**I'm**_** the one in charge of how long this takes…****well, I hope I can update soon. This story is still my main priority, but I do really want to write other stuff as well….can't help it, I'm a writer ;) But I did want to ask – is the pace of this still okay for you all? Or what I mean is…is it annoying for Elsa to be constantly acting like an emotional yoyo? That's what I feel like keeps coming out, and I hope it's not bad, but…well, that should be ending soon anyway. Well, tell me what you think. **

**Anyway – thank you, everyone, for sticking with me, for reviewing, liking, reading in general…I love you all. Please review some more and give me your thoughts! I look forward to hearing from you – and, to posting the next chapter. Soon. **

**~whatswiththemustache**


	27. Condemned

***Sorry for any typos or words that look out of place - I typed a lot of this chapter on my tablet, which likes to go a little crazy when it comes to auto-correct. Like, it makes 'was' become 'as', 'the' become 'he', and… Anyway, if you see any, feel free to point it out. That'd actually be a great help : )**

**Chapter 27: Condemned **

In the middle of the night, surrounded by darkness and the haze of sleep…Merlin's eyes snapped open.

It wasn't a sound, wasn't physical touch or pain that woke him – instead, it was a _pulse_. Like a vibration, a wave of energy passing over him and racing towards its destination. It was power. Magic.

The instant he felt it, he had already shot up out of bed, heart pounding – still, his breathing was surprisingly slow. Quiet, forcefully smooth, as he listened for something more – waited, and waited, but there was nothing. Just a quiet sense of unease.

And also – an idea, a faint feeling, of just who that wave of energy had emanated from. _Elsa_.

And so, with a racing heart and a pit of nervousness swirling somewhere in his gut, Merlin dressed in the dark and took off towards that energy, not wasting a second.

* * *

Arthur watched with a fuming satisfaction as his men took Elsa away. The anger that had filled him minutes ago had subsided, turning gradually into fatigue, but that satisfaction of taking down an enemy would remain. A small part of him was disgusted by it. The other, louder part of him said that it was his duty - said, in a voice that sounded not-so-suspiciously like his father, that she deserved everything she got. Beyond satisfaction - mostly, Arthur was just tired. Exhausted, really.

The quiet sound of soft footsteps tore him away from his thoughts. Arthur turned, releasing a heavy sigh, to see Morgana step up beside him. Her face was unreadable as she watched Elsa disappear around the corner, down the hall.

For a long moment, they just stood there in silence. Morgana spent the time staring down the hall, her eyes unfocused; it seemed that she was lost in thought. Arthur found himself watching her, taking advantage of the relief at not being scrutinized back. It only took seconds for the confusion he'd felt earlier to come rushing back.

Because, really. Dreaming about the future...and then, actually seeing those dreams come true? Ridiculous. Impossible. Those were his immediate thoughts. Except, he'd seen it too. It happened.

Arthur had seen some strange things throughout his life, but...seeing his adopted sister dream about and accurately predict the future was pressing uncomfortably outside his comfort zone. It _didn_'t make sense, didn't _have_ an explanation...except...

Well. There was always an explanation, one that dwelled far at the back of his mind and could only be coaxed out when there was absolutely no other - it was something he didn't want to think about. Something that had been occupying his thoughts much more than he liked recently. _Magic_.

The exact instant he allowed the word to cross his mind, he was plunged into an icy sense of unease. _Magic_. It couldn't be magic, shouldn't possibly be - Morgana definitely didn't have magic. There was simply no way. _Except_...dreaming the future? That wasn't normal. Wasn't possible, unless maybe...with the help of sorcery. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed - how else? It _was_ the only explanation...

But, then there was the fact that Morgana seemed to know nothing about it. The way she talked about her dreams... she'd been confused, weary of them, but there was no suspicion in her eyes. She didn't know.

_Morgana is somehow cursed with magical dreams...and she doesn't know. _

That thought echoed through his mind, sharp and overwhelming - everything seemed to shudder to a halt, and that was exactly why it took him a second to notice as Morgana's gaze flickered to his. She blinked, taken aback, when she noticed his stare; narrowing her eyes, she turned to face him just as Arthur realized his mistake with a jolt.

"What?" Morgana's voice was hard and suspecting, now; she glared at him with a frown. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Arthur blinked and shuffled, immediately looking away. "Nothing, I wasn't -"

The lady replied with an exasperated sigh. "Right," said Morgana sarcastically. Her words were just as sharp as ever, despite the weariness in her eyes. "Come on, Arthur, just spit it out."

_That easy, is it? _ Arthur clenched his jaw and averted his eyes. Just spit it out - but if it really was magic - how could he say something like that to Morgana? She'd be crushed, terrified -

"Arthur..."

More than anything, Arthur wanted to ignore her and just leave - but after even considering it, Arthur knew that he couldn't. Could he really just ignore this - this problem, this magical threat hanging over Morgana's head? How would he even look her in the eye, after keeping something like that from her?

"It's just..." Arthur began with a sigh, slumping. "I'm just worried about you." Even as he said it, Arthur saw how Morgana's eyes narrowed - he turned to stare down the hall and avoid her sharp gaze.

"I don't _need_ to be worried about, Arthur." For a long moment her eyes didn't leave his - he could feel her stare boring into face - until finally she shifted with a new realization. "It's about my dreams, isn't it?"

There was a thick coating of suspicion over her words, nearly making Arthur flinch. _He_ was suspicious, of course, of _magic_, but Morgana couldn't know that - he floundered, for a moment, for the right words. "You _can_'t tell me that you don't think it's strange," started Arthur. "I mean - dreaming the future? It doesn't - _worry_ you?"

She met his eyes dead-on - unwavering, but Arthur knew her better than to fall for her tough act. Beneath that stony gaze, he could see her uncertainty - she stuck out her chin, squaring her jaw. "Why?" Narrowed eyes, challenging tone - a signature Morgana move. "Does it _bother_ you?"

_Bother_ _me_? Arthur gritted his teeth silently, squeezing his eyes shut for a millisecond - of _course_ it did, and of _course_ Morgana would do this. The longer that this conversation proceeded, the more certain Arthur was that it was _not_ the time. _I need time to think_ \- he shook his head, blinking. "No, just - just, look, would you...just do me a favor, alright?" Arthur lowered his voice, taking a step closer to her and receiving a falsely annoyed look in response. "Just...don't mention your dreams to anyone else. I mean, obviously not the actual dreams, but...the future-predicting part."

Morgana sighed with a huff, grinding her jaw. "Well it's not like I was about to go singing it to the court..." She ducked her head, looking away and letting her strong exterior flicker for a moment - in that moment, Arthur immediately felt terrible for her. But, there wasn't really anything else he could do - nothing else he could attempt to make things right, not yet -

But, at least she seemed agreeable in that one instance._ For now_ \- he shook himself, straightening. "Good," said Arthur, nodding._ Then, I can just worry about this later..._

Morgana's company didn't last much longer after that. Despite the eventfulness of the past few hours, it _was_ still the middle of the night - tomorrow, they'd both be even more exhausted. Morgana went off to bed soon, leaving Arthur to his thoughts once more. It wasn't a pleasant feeling - there was just too much to think about, and none of it good. _Elsa, Dezyra - Merlin..._

What was he even going to do about all of this? This fiasco with Elsa - somehow, he was going to have to explain all this to the king. That conversation would not be pretty, and Arthur honestly couldn't expect anything less - he was probably even angrier than Uther would be, because _he_ was the one who'd allowed things to escalate as far as they had. It was _his_ fault.

No matter how much he wanted to blame a certain idiotic manservant...it was Arthur who'd listened to him. It wasn't like Arthur hadn't known just how naïve Merlin was; if anything, he often overestimated Merlin's gullibility. So, why in the world had he listened to him? Why in the world had he let things go so far?

Still - despite the fact that the actual blame fell to him, Arthur still had to do something about Merlin. Because, honestly - _what_ in the _world_ was he _thinking_?

With his thoughts still firmly in place around his servant, Arthur began making his way out of the dungeons and towards the upper castle area. As he was climbing one of the several stairways, the sound of hurried footsteps came from up ahead.

The darkness of the hallways and the time of night made him immediately wary, but there was something familiar about the sound - he slowed, his hand moving towards his sword, even as a shadowy figure turned the corner and came into view. The dark silhouette was more than familiar, though not entirely welcome at the moment. Arthur could tell the exact second that Merlin noticed him standing there, as the skinnier man stumbled slightly and slowed to a halting walk.

_Always just showing up, isn't he?_ Surely Merlin had to have some sort of sixth sense for trouble; he always seemed to find it so easily. Frowning, Arthur relaxed his sword arm and instead twisted both arms together, crossing them in front of his chest.

In seconds Merlin had hurried up, wearing a frown of concern - Arthur could barely see in the dim lighting, but he knew Merlin well enough to tell. His servant was panting slightly, as if he'd been running - _that, or snooping around in matters that don't concern him. As usual._

In just the few seconds that he stood there, watching Merlin's rushed approach, Arthur felt that familiar simmering anger making its way to the surface once more. Perhaps this _was_ his fault, for the most part - but Merlin wasn't getting away free of blame, either, this time.

"Arthur? What's going on?" asked Merlin - his voice held an underlying panic in it. Concern, most likely for Arthur himself, but he pushed the information aside, gritting his teeth.

"I could ask you the same thing," replied Arthur stiffly. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Merlin's eyes dated away for a second, unreadable. "I woke up – I thought I heard something, and something felt wrong, so I checked your chambers but you weren't there..." He trailed off, straightening and narrowing his eyes. "What happened?"

It sounded like a reasonable excuse, but at the moment Arthur didn't feel like accepting anything Merlin said - instead he looked away, cleaning his jaw in silence. Finally - "Nothing that concerns you."

There was a short pause. "What..." His tone was wary now, more cautious. "Is it - is it something to do with Elsa? Is she alright?"

It was then that Arthur felt a finger start to twitch - he balled his hands into tight fists, considering waiting a moment before speaking, allowing himself to gather his thoughts and rein in his anger. He considered it, but the obvious worry in Merlin's voice - worry and concern for _Elsa_, a _sorceress_ \- pushed away all other thought. The sound forced its way to the forefront of his mind. _Idiot_.

"Yes, it is to do with Elsa," began Arthur, his voice deliberately restrained and tense - for the moment. It wouldn't last - "Would you like to know why? Do you think you could guess? It's not exactly a _far_ _leap_ to make, even for _you_."_ Or shouldn't be -_

Of course - of _course_ \- the only reaction Merlin could present was an expression of bewilderment. Arthur snapped.

"_Elsa_, your friend the _sorceress_, has just broken into the vaults and _stolen_ something! When we got there, she used her magic against Morgana and me - was probably trying to kill us! Of course, it's no surprise - after all, she's a _sorceress_. It's what they _do_." He paused, waiting for his voice to stop echoing through the hallway - his words had probably traveled around half the castle, considering how loud his voice was. "And yet here _you_ are, _Mer_lin, asking after her health and her safety. Ironic, don't you think?"

Merlin had taken a step back, gaping at him with a stunned look in his eye. "She – _what_? How did – I – that doesn't make _sense_ –"

"No, Merlin, it makes perfect sense, only you're too dense to see it. _She is a sorceress_," growled Arthur, enunciating each syllable sharply. "And magic is _evil_. That's all there is to it."

He was almost taken aback by the look in Merlin's eye – a hurt, disappointed, nearly _betrayed_ look?– and almost confused by the way Merlin seemed to flinch at his words, taking another step away. Almost, but – his anger was in control, at the moment, so he ignored Merlin's reaction. Probably more idiocy, anyway.

After a moment of tense silence, Merlin looked away, shaking his head with a pained look in his eyes. "No, I can't – there must be more to it, there has to be something – Elsa wouldn't just steal with no reason, she's –"

"No – no! Don't you get it?" _Is he really that convinced? _Arthur cut Merlin off again, shaking his head angrily – Merlin was growing more agitated by the second, and he wasn't taking any care to hide it. Fidgeting, running his hands through his hair – even in his angry state, Arthur could tell that Merlin was more than just upset. Seeing that – it only made Arthur more frustrated with the whole thing, and more convinced that Merlin was either really _really_ stupid, or…

"Don't you get it, Merlin?" repeated Arthur, lowering his voice and gesturing sharply. "I mean – if my father were present to hear you, you'd already have been arrested under suspicion of collaborating with a sorceress. Hell, I guess we'd all be, after what happened…which, I might add, was all _your_ idea. Now, I'm not my father, but…you really need to get your head straight. Because if you don't, you're going to wind up in a lot of trouble."

Merlin was looking away – he stood slumped, arms crossed and head lowered, but obviously not in deference. If anything, he was probably wearing a disapproving scowl that was about to be directed at Arthur any moment… Gritting his teeth, Arthur continued, taking a step closer to his manservant.

"Now, listen to me. You're going to go back to where you're supposed to be right now, and you're going to stay there. You're not going to go off on any more adventures any more, and you are _not_ going to see the sorceress at all. I mean it, Merlin – you're forbidden from visiting to dungeons to see her. If I hear that you've been down there…well, it won't be pretty. Got that?"

It took a second – Arthur shifted impatiently, ready to start yelling again – but Merlin eventually gave a terse nod, still refusing to meet Arthur's eye.

"Good. And you'd better not be late tomorrow morning, no matter how little sleep you wind up getting – that's all on you." Arthur paused, going over all he'd said – satisfied, he straightened with a sigh. "Now, get going. I'd better not see you anywhere else for the rest of the night."

Again, Merlin took a long moment to respond – when he did, it wasn't to give a nod of compliance or even to turn and walk off silently. Instead, he lifted his head and finally met Arthur's eyes.

This time, Arthur couldn't muster up enough nonchalance to curb his surprise – Merlin wasn't scowling, wasn't wearing a frown of determined defiance like he'd been expecting. Instead, his servant wore an expression of absolute disappointment and exhaustion. The look on his face seemed honest, open – not irrational or angry, as Arthur couldn't help but feel.

Merlin seemed to sigh with his entire body. "Alright, Arthur – I'll do as you ask," said Merlin slowly, his voice quiet. "But, just know – I _don't believe_ that Elsa's evil. I just don't. There's more to this than you know, there has to be, and I'm going to find out what. I am going to show you that she's on our side, somehow. Then you'll see."

"I thought I just said, no more _adventures_ –"

"No adventures," replied Merlin, shaking his head solemnly. "Just the truth."

With that, Merlin gave him the slightest of nods before turning and walking away. It was at a fast pace, the usual due to his height – but it still seemed that Merlin was walking heavily, as if he were carrying some sort of enormous burden on his shoulders. Arthur saw it – he watched, silently, as Merlin disappeared around the corner, and he never made to reply or rebuke him a final time…he just didn't. He wanted to – he probably should've – but he couldn't. Arthur quickly found that his anger had all but died down, leaving weariness and worry in its place.

The silence that Arthur had been longing for did nothing to lighten his mood.

Especially because – those words that Merlin spoken just now didn't seem like something an idiot would say. And yet – they were words spent defending a sorceress, promising that the _truth_ would be revealed. Arthur knew that Merlin could sometimes dredge up a strange wisdom from who-knew-where, but at those moments…Merlin nearly always turned out to be right. Or at the very least, he'd never been _wrong_. So…now…

What was it? It had already been nagging at the back of his mind – for Merlin to be so convinced that Elsa wasn't evil and that she could be trusted, he'd have to be really, really stupid – _or_…

Or. What?

_Enchanted_?

The thought immediately brought up another worrying subject to mind – _Morgana_ – and Arthur rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, sighing. Possibly…but then again, Merlin wasn't really acting so different than normal, was he? He always came up with ridiculous things, and he _did_ have the nerve to defend users of magic before – after all, there was the druid boy incident, and the whole unicorn disaster…

So was he? Or was he just being his naïve self? Or…

Arthur didn't know.

* * *

The second Merlin got away from Arthur, it seemed like every muscle in his body gave out – he'd somehow made it a few corridors away, finding a convenient alcove where he could slump to the ground in safety. He didn't even try to stop himself – he just gave out, sliding against the hard stone wall until he was collapsed on the floor, completely devoid of energy.

All he could do was listen to the series of words and phrases echoing throughout his mind, effectively tearing painful holes in his heart.

_Broken into the vaults…stolen something. _

_It's what they do. _

_She is a sorceress…and magic is evil. _

_Evil_.

It hurt to breathe.

It should've been easy to ignore things like that – he should've been used to it. After all, he was living in a kingdom where magic was outlawed and _hated_ – it wasn't unusual to hear such cruel words.

Not unusual, and Merlin _was_ used to it, more or less…

But when _Arthur_ said it…

That's when things got complicated.

All the prophecies in the world couldn't change facts…_and Arthur's never going to change, either. _He shouldn't think that – it would only make things worse, and Merlin _knew_ this – but. Sometimes – it didn't matter. And now – _Elsa_…

Right.

Merlin couldn't afford to waste time feeling sorry for himself; he couldn't let his hopeless destiny get in the way of Elsa's fate, especially when he was the one who would most likely determine it. Right now – he had to put things right. Broken into the vaults, stolen something – there was an explanation. No question about it. So.

Merlin swallowed heavily and shut his eyes, wishing away his grief. It took a moment of focus, but eventually – he let his magic extend around him, feeling the way towards Elsa's presence.

It was only a moment until he found her – in the dungeons, locked away in one of the far cells. Those were the magic-resistant ones, he recalled – of course, the spells put on those cells wouldn't be any match for magic as strong as Elsa's. Although…he somehow doubted that she'd be breaking out anytime soon. After all, she'd let herself be caught…

Concentrating, Merlin focused on Elsa's presence and did his best to communicate telepathically once again – he still hadn't really figured the whole thing out, but he did get the gist of it. Thinking out a word or phrase as loud as mentally possible seemed to do the trick, most of the time.

_Elsa!_

He waited a moment, still focused on her – and there was a difference, he could tell. Her presence _shifted_, as if in surprise – but even after a long minute of waiting, there was no reply. Merlin tried again, frowning – but again, there was nothing.

He sighed heavily, letting his head fall back against the hard stone wall behind him. _She's ignoring me_.

The effort to call out to her was already beginning to give him a headache. Merlin felt just about ready to drop off to sleep, but he couldn't – there was work to be done. No matter if Elsa replied or not – she needed to hear. He grit his teeth one last time, concentrating with slight difficulty –

It took a moment, but when he sent the message, he was certain that she heard it. It'd have been impossible not to.

_Elsa – I know that things are looking bad right now. But I swear to you, I'm going to fix this. I promise._

Again, he waited – listening to the sound of absolutely nothing. It was clear, though, that Elsa was going to remain silent.

**Hey – well, I hope you liked the chapter! I know it's sort of been a while, again, but guess what – school's out! So that's kind of good, for writing FF. Ish. Because now I have inconsistent internet, but oh well, I'll figure it out. Anyways, let's hope summer is awesome and that I can keep up…with all my endless stories…*eternal sigh***

**Anywho – the next chapter is actually already halfway done, and probably finished by the time I wind up posting this! So, I'll most likely be posting the next one very soon. I really should save it, but I kind of don't want to, so…I won't. Anyway – please let me know how you're liking this so far! Remember, reviews are my brain food – oh, and that 100 mark is sooo close too…**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	28. The Curse

**Wow, I am literally stunned at myself. How in the heck I managed to type two entire chapters in the course of two days, I will never know – I guess you can blame coffee? Sugar? Steroids? (not actually)…**

**Whatever. I guess I really **_**am**_** a robot, just like my annoying friends always say. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 28: The Curse**

The next day.

Arthur found himself leaving the throne room with a rapidly growing headache. How he'd ever thought that telling his father the entire story – or, _most_ of the entire story - could possibly be a good idea…but, of course, there was no choice. It was his responsibility. Especially after everything…

Needless to say – the king had not been happy. It had been quite a while since Uther had yelled at him like that, but Arthur hadn't said a word of protest – after all, it _was_ his fault. Mostly.

_You _knew_ she was a sorceress, and yet you brought her into the castle?_

_You thought she could be _trusted_?_

_Why didn't you tell me sooner?_

_What were you _thinking_? _

It hadn't been at all pleasant. After giving Arthur a long and merciless lecture, Uther had taken the entire situation out of Arthur's control, ordering the guards to only take orders from the king. Arthur's authority over prisoners had more or less been rendered mute – at least temporarily. He knew it wouldn't last long, but it still stung.

What's worse, was that he couldn't even rant to Merlin about it.

Well, that was more probably for the best, because Arthur would most likely wind up blaming Merlin again (not that it wasn't uncalled for). But, having the option would certainly make Arthur feel better – and anyway, Merlin needed a little more metaphorical thrashing as well.

But, that wasn't an option – Merlin had effectively made himself scarce.

The servant had shown up that morning, waking Arthur and delivering his breakfast, but he'd done so in an uncharacteristic silence. Arthur hadn't felt up to breaking that silence either, but Merlin's lack of babbling did irk him. And beyond that – the second that all of Merlin's early-morning chores were complete, he had promptly vanished. He didn't even wait to be dismissed, and that _did_ bother Arthur.

He could only guess that Merlin was making good on his promise to uncover the 'truth'. Arthur didn't like that idea at all, but he couldn't work up the energy to track Merlin down and stop him, either.

Perhaps it was that look in Merlin's eyes, the night before – something. Hopefully, forbidding Merlin from talking to Elsa would be enough.

* * *

"I've _got_ to_ do_ something."

Merlin's voice sounded more worn down than determined, and significantly muffled from where he sat draped over a chair in the physician's chambers. He watched with half-closed eyes as Gaius hunched over a table, focusing intensely on the ancient, dusty volume before him. Sitting beside the shabby-looking book was a small wooden chest, covered in elaborate symbols that were etched into the wood.

Gaius let out an exasperated sigh, not bothering to look over to his ward. "Yes, we've established that, but I'm afraid you're just going to have to be patient."

Merlin only responded with a miserable-sounding groan. He'd been sitting there watching Gaius go over the vault records for over an hour already. According to Gaius, the first and foremost thing to do was to figure out exactly what was missing from the vaults. He was probably right, but the process was infuriating. And all the while, Elsa was locked away in the dungeons below.

Merlin had kept his promise to Arthur – he hadn't gone to see Elsa, and he'd done his duties like always. But, other than that – Merlin was ready to do whatever was necessary to figure out what was actually going on. He'd give it as much time as necessary, whatever it took to discover the truth. If that meant avoiding Arthur and sitting here, watching Gaius…then so be it.

Besides that…Merlin still didn't really feel up to being in Arthur's company right now, anyway. Not after what he'd said the night before – the words still seemed to echo through Merlin's thoughts, sharp like knives. He pushed the thought back, however, because there were more important things to focus on.

Like – _what happened to Elsa last night?_

At the moment, Merlin felt like he was completely in the dark on the whole situation. Yes, Arthur had given him a summary of last night's events, and it was all apparently true – it made sense, too, because Merlin had been woken by some surge of power that must have been Elsa's magic – and yet. It just didn't make sense, because – _why_? Why in the world would Elsa break into the vaults? What _happened_?

Those questions, and many more – Merlin had no way to find out. He was forbidden from speaking to Elsa. He even tried speaking to her through his mind again, but she still refused to answer. Other than that, there was no way to find out more about exactly what had happened last night. He certainly couldn't ask Arthur – maybe later, but not now. Apparently Morgana had also been present for the whole event, which inspired a whole array of new questions – but he couldn't exactly go barging into her chambers this early in the morning either, so for now that was out as well. Basically, Merlin could do absolutely nothing for the moment – nothing, except think. It was completely infuriating.

"…even if we _do_ figure out what Elsa stole and why, assuming she had a good reason…" mused Merlin aloud, his tone flat and discouraged. "…Uther knows that she has magic now. Arthur's probably already finished reporting the whole thing to him…so either way, Elsa's _existence_ is illegal. And Uther…he'll…"

Gaius turned to eye Merlin, frowning. "Things aren't just as simple as that, Merlin," admonished Gaius. "Uther can't just execute Elsa, if that's what you're thinking. After all – no matter what she's done, she's still a princess. Uther can't inflict much of a punishment at all if he wants to avoid war with Arendelle." The physician turned back to his books with a grimace, shaking his head. "More likely than not, the worst punishment that Elsa will get is banishment from Camelot. Uther would be foolish to go any further…"

"Yes, but – we both know that Uther's irrational when it comes to magic. He could do anything – whenever his hatred of magic comes into play, he always takes things unbelievably far." Merlin frowned, a nauseous feeling swirling in his stomach. "There's no telling…"

Gaius sighed again, sounding more than a little frustrated. "No, I suppose there's not, but there _might_ be if I ever find out what is was that Elsa stole…" His words were pointed, and Merlin quickly fell silent.

It seemed like the longest, most unbearable silence that Merlin had ever sat through – listening to the occasional sound of heavy pages slowly turning, floorboards scratchily creaking, and that hard, heavy lack of noise…infuriating. Normally he would've fallen asleep, but now he was too tense – and if he _had_ fallen asleep, he probably would have been woken up by a nightmare anyway. So there was nothing for it – Merlin simply let his thoughts take over, going over everything again and again.

When Gaius finally spoke, Merlin nearly fell out of his chair.

"Ah! Finally," muttered the old physician, almost to himself – Merlin quickly got up, rushing over.

"What? You found it?"

"Yes, I believe so…though, there isn't much…" Gaius trailed off, obviously immersed – Merlin waited quietly, trying to be patient despite how he wanted to grab the book straight out of his mentor's hands.

Finally the old man straightened, turning to Merlin with a pensive, worried look. "Well, there isn't much known about it," said Gaius gradually, reaching up to remove his reading glasses. "But apparently, what used to reside in that box –" Gaius gestured to the wooden chest on the table briefly. "– was a _candle_. Called the Candle of Gerok. It's described as a priceless artifact, but also as a magical weapon of destruction. It was created centuries ago by the sorcerer Gerok, but other than that…there's no more information on it."

_The Candle of Gerok_. A priceless artifact…and a weapon. Merlin stood hunched, arms wrapped halfway around his torso – an ominous feeling was beginning to settle in his stomach, and this time it felt well-founded. Gaius had a tight, apprehensive look on his face as he moved to sit in one of his old chairs, slumping back wearily.

"Why…would Elsa want to take something like that?" wondered Merlin – he sounded clueless, completely thrown, and there was no helping it. This was going to put a definite kink in his plan of getting Elsa released.

Gaius slowly shook his head. "It doesn't seem to make sense…but then again, we really don't know much about this candle. What kind of weapon is it, exactly? What purpose does it serve? Without knowing, this information is useless." He sounded frustrated, and Merlin felt the same. But…

If this was all books and records could tell them…

There was another way.

Merlin straightened, his frown slipping away, heart thumping loudly. Of course – "No it isn't," said Merlin firmly, turning to stride out of the room. "I know a way. I'll be back soon!"

"Wait, Merlin – where are you going?" Gaius looked fairly alarmed, at this point, but Merlin couldn't waste time to explain. He only slowed, throwing an assuring glance over his shoulder. It felt wrong to stop – he wanted to run, race in order to get rid of his nervous anticipation.

"I know someone who might just know what the Candle of Gerok is." His reply was cryptic – he really had to work on that. Without another word, Merlin rushed out the door and down the corridor.

He wanted to run, and yet he didn't – if this would help to free Elsa, then he was all for it. But also…it would be difficult. Merlin couldn't honestly say that he felt anything but dread when he thought of the coming conversation – that, and anger as well. Conflicting feelings.

He had to speak to the Great Dragon.

* * *

The walk down to the dragon's cavern was as long and foreboding as ever. Merlin had to be careful, avoiding guards and anyone else who happened to be out; if Arthur heard that Merlin had been seen near the dungeons, then he'd really be in trouble. He took care to avoid people, but it wasn't at the forefront of his mind – having Arthur get mad at him again just didn't strike him as such a worrisome thing at the moment.

There was much more to worry about.

When he finally entered the dark cavern, waving a torch around in the air – the atmosphere in the large cave seemed unusually tense. Expectant.

Merlin had hoped that the dragon would just appear as he normally did, but it seemed that today that wouldn't be the case – after waiting for a long moment, Merlin called out.

"Hello?" The word echoed repeatedly, and Merlin got the distinct feeling that he was being ignored. "Would you mind coming down here?"

It took another long moment of silence – until finally, there was a shifting sound accompanied by the telltale clinking of metal on metal. A second later, the cave was filled with the rushing sound of enormous wings flapping and that of giant talons scraping along a wall of rock – the dragon seemed to smash down onto the rocky pillar before Merlin, his wings precariously outspread. Despite his bulk, the dragon was quite graceful as he seemed to gather his composure and tuck his wings in; eventually he lifted his head to pin Merlin down with a sharp golden gaze.

"What can I do for you?" said the dragon, a distinctly derisive note in his voice.

_Here he goes _– Merlin chewed his jaw shortly, silently vowing not to let the dragon taunt him. That was, assuming Merlin didn't wind up attacking the dragon himself – he was doing all he could to keep himself from thinking about what had almost happened to Elsa down here. _Focus_.

"There are a lot of things I need to say to you," said Merlin slowly, looking away. "But right now I only have time for one. I need your help."

"I'm sure you can imagine how utterly shocked I am to hear that."

Merlin rolled his eyes at the dragon's dry reply, frustrated. "Look, I don't have time for your games! This is important!"

"Isn't it always?"

Merlin fumed, shaking his head tersely. "…I need you to tell me what the Candle of Gerok is."

The change was immediate – the dragon reared back his head, narrowing his amber eyes. All the sharp humor that he'd been indulging in fell away like shed skin, leaving the beast deadly serious. "The Candle of Gerok?" Could it be that there was genuine concern in the dragon's voice? Merlin frowned, tilting his head. "Where did you learn that name?"

"It's…a long story…" Merlin frowned at the dragon, pausing. "What is it? Apparently it's a weapon of some sort, but what exactly…?"

The dragon was silent for a long moment, staring at Merlin with unreadable eyes. "It is a weapon – a terrible weapon, designed to have apocalyptic effects. Ranked among the most deadly…the most _devastating_…what has happened to it? Why do you ask?"

_Deadly, devastating?_ It felt as if a creeping sickness were crawling over him, inching closer and closer to his heart. Merlin gulped heavily, haltingly forcing the words out. "…It's – it was… stolen."

The dragon froze – he stayed statue-still, not even breathing. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence – "Who?"

A simple question – an obvious answer. Merlin had never been so reluctant to speak.

"…It was Elsa."

It was as if the air had solidified – the dragon's glare was inescapable – Merlin couldn't look away.

The words came slowly, but each syllable struck him like a knife.

"…Did I not warn you about that witch, Merlin?"

He _knew_ that the dragon was wrong, _knew_ that there was more – he couldn't help but flinch, regardless. The words still came, sharp like glass.

"Did I not tell you that she wasn't to be trusted? Did I not say that she was _dangerous_?" The dragon advanced slowly, lowering his gigantic head towards Merlin's still figure. "If there were _ever_ a time for you to listen to me, it would have been then – and now – you have _no idea_ of the consequences –"

Merlin couldn't take it anymore, had to speak. "It's not – look, I don't know the whole story yet, but there's more to it – Elsa broke into the vaults and apparently removed the candle, but she didn't have it when she was arrested, so –" He couldn't help but inject a slightly hopeful tone, despite the fact that there was absolutely nothing promising about the words he'd just spoken.

The dragon only scoffed, looking angrier than ever. "So what? That makes no difference – in fact, is most likely makes things worse! If she stole it but didn't have it when she was found out, that can only mean that she'd already sent it away by the time she could be caught! So now, the Candle is likely far from Camelot, in the hands of Elsa's accomplices –"

He didn't know how he worked up the courage to interrupt the furious dragon, but he somehow did – perhaps it was just indignation on Elsa's part. "Elsa doesn't have _accomplices, _and she's not _evil_ – now, I don't know what happened to the Candle, but –"

"She doesn't have accomplices, you say?" The dragon seemed to sneer at him, all-knowing and livid. "Well then, where exactly is her friend right now? The sorceress who helped her escape from Arendelle?"

"What?" Merlin's voice rang out in the sudden quiet, confused. "…Dezyra? How did you know about her? And – anyway, she's not her _friend_, not after Dezyra tried to enchant… Elsa…"

Oh.

His words trailed off into silence, and the dragon didn't interrupt – he must have known, as well.

Merlin stood as if frozen, his mind both whirring in thought and jammed to an utter and complete halt – somehow, both at once. It was as if a bucket of ice had dropped straight into his stomach – _ice_, ironically enough, as that had everything to do with this –

It was obvious. It made perfect sense. And – it meant that he had been right. But also, terribly wrong…

"She enchanted Elsa," whispered Merlin into the silence, barely breathing – it seemed like it would have been impossible to try, anyway. "She enchanted her – made it so she could control her – and then she had Elsa break into the vaults, steal the Candle, and send it to her – all under an enchantment – of _course_…"

The dragon only let out a huge puff of breath, his emotions unidentifiable. Merlin couldn't stop speaking, not when everything suddenly fit together so perfectly – "And that explains _how_ she did it, too – it didn't make sense, because Elsa doesn't _know_ any magic except for her ice magic, so how could she have unlocked the gate or sent away the Candle? But if she was being controlled by Dezyra – then it would make sense…"

Merlin took a deep breath, his head feeling suddenly much clearer. The clarity was a good feeling, but it was swiftly beginning to fade – because, after all…

It did make sense. But it also meant that right now, Dezyra had the Candle exactly where she wanted it.

"She was under an enchantment," repeated Merlin, his tone muted now. "And now Dezyra has the Candle." _At least Elsa isn't evil_. He wanted to say it, but he didn't really think the comment would be appreciated.

The dragon took a moment to speak – his words were heavy when he did. "Yes…and that may very well be an end to us all."

"But – _why_? What is it, the Candle of Gerok – what does it _do_?" He had to know, as much as he didn't want to – the sense of urgency that was slowly taking control of him would have it no other way.

Another heavy sigh, before he spoke – words that Merlin _didn't_ want to hear, that he wished he didn't have to. Despite that – they were inevitable.

"The Candle of Gerok….is an instrument of deadly intent…a tool that can be used to activate the most terrible curse that has ever been crafted. When it is activated…it has the power to kill hundreds of thousands. It has the power…to destroy an entire people. It will target every single living person around it, extending for miles and miles – entire kingdoms. Whole lands. Everyone….

"Except, not quite. Depending on how the curse is activated – it will target every person belonging to a certain group of people… It will kill _every single person_ who has magic…or, every single person _without_ it. Either way, an entire race of people will die."

* * *

.

.  
.

Waking up…

It felt like she was underwater, sluggish and unresponsive. Thinking – was impossible.

Still – she wanted to wake up, she could feel it…

Just…

_How?_ She didn't know.

Eternities seemed to go by – all the while she simply floated, unthinking, unfeeling…just stuck. Somehow, she could distantly understand – it wasn't right, something was wrong – but she couldn't remember, couldn't…_try_…

It went on for…she didn't know.

When things finally started to get clearer – fractionally, but they did – she still couldn't really place anything, couldn't think. But her senses were slowly beginning to return. She could hear something (a soft, quiet series of sounds, all too quick to comprehend), and she could feel something (a hard surface, pressing against her…back? something sharp and tight, against her…arm, maybe? it was hard to tell). She could feel a distinct unease, as well, though that wasn't really beneficial at all.

And eventually…_finally_…she could see light, shining just on the other side of her closed eyelids.

It took quite a struggle, but – she opened her eyes.

_Wrong._

A strange clearing, dotted with crumbling ruins – traces of broken walls, several towering pillars – a slab of stone, an altar, sitting at the center. Further away – the sky was blue and clear, but beneath it was a thick forest, surrounding the entire open area. An _unfamiliar_ forest, unfamiliar trees. And, standing only a short distance away…

A tall woman, wearing a simple, dark gown. She stood unmoving, her eyes closed – but Anna knew that beneath those eyelids were eyes of the darkest, deepest brown. _Dezyra – _the name drifted across her thoughts.

She must have moved, must have made some sound – because a moment later Dezyra was moving too, opening her eyes and staring at Anna with a chillingly knowing look. It only took that unnerving gaze – immediately, a flood of memories seemed to attack Anna, hitting her in overwhelming droves. _Elsa, missing. Riding out of Arendelle…the road…Dezyra's eyes, flashing gold as she muttered a pair of foreign words_…then, darkness.

Anna gasped, jerking forward as she tried to get up – only then did she realize that she her arms were pulled back around what must be a pillar, the hard surface that she was sitting against. The second that she tried to move forward, a sharp pain shot through her wrists – her hands were tied.

Dezyra watched her tug against the ropes that bound her hands behind the pillar, a smile crossing her perfect features. "There's no use, you know," said the sorceress, her voice almost musical. "They are magical, after all."

Anna gave the ropes one final jerk – pointless, but sort of satisfying anyway – before raising her head to glare at Dezyra. "What do you _want_ from me?" asked Anna, doing her best to shrug in bewilderment. She didn't get very far. "Why did you bring me here?"

Dezyra sighed, turning away for a moment to look towards the stone altar sitting half a dozen feet away. Her gaze seemed to linger there for a moment – but the only thing at all remarkable about the altar was a tall black candle that stood upon it. Eventually Dezyra turned back, shaking her head slowly. "It's a long, long story, and I don't really care to share it right now. All you need to know is that you're going to help me to activate a little spell – and you're going to do it willingly."

The sorceress seemed utterly certain in what she was saying – certain enough that Anna had to pause for a moment, having to think through the murk that still lingered in her mind. "Um…first of all, why would I ever do that…? And – really, this doesn't feel very willing to me." She lowered her eyes for a second, indicating her tied arms with raised eyebrows.

Dezyra didn't roll her eyes, but Anna got the very distinct feeling that she wanted to. "There's a bit more of a process to this," she said smoothly, tilting her head knowingly. "But, believe me, when I need my vessel…you'll be only too willing to take the responsibility."

_Vessel? _That didn't sound good at all. Anna blinked, shaking her head quickly. "And – _why_ would I do that, exactly?"

Dezyra moved as if she were gliding – turning, she walked over to the altar, lifting a hand as if to stroke the candle that sat there. She never touched it, though. "Because," said Dezyra firmly, her voice smoother and more certain than ever. "If you don't, then I'll go and find your sister – and I'll make her become the vessel instead. Don't pretend that she wouldn't do it – she wouldn't hesitate one second, not when her little sister is at risk. And you wouldn't want that, now would you?"

Her lips tilted upwards in a smile – she never turned to look at Anna as she spoke, but she still wore that knowing smile. It seemed to send daggers through Anna, cold and cutting.

Anna had to shake her head, somehow forced herself to speak. "No, she – she wouldn't – I mean…" She didn't know what to say. It was true, she _would_, but surely – there had to be _something_ –

Dezyra finally turned to face her, scoffing in amusement. "Can you really say that? Truthfully – can you say that Elsa wouldn't do anything to protect you? After all – she did leave Arendelle to protect you. She left everything behind, just to keep you safe – so why wouldn't she give herself up to save you, as well? That is…unless you'd rather save her, this time."

_Leave Arendelle…to protect me?_

Anna had known, had suspected at the very least – but to hear it said by a stranger, an _enemy_ – she suddenly found herself gasping for breath, struggling for air. _Elsa…giving everything up to keep me safe?_ Beyond anything else… Anna felt guilt, flooding her body and swirling within her, hot and painful and real.

_All because of me._

"Don't you think she's given up enough for you, after everything?"

Anna gulped heavily, her throat suddenly as dry as sand – she nodded, drawing a gasping breath and trying desperately to blink away the hot tears pricking at her eyes. "Yes – yes, of course…" whispered Anna, clenching her jaw. "….yes."

"So…what do you say? You'll be my vessel willingly, won't you?"

The certainty of Dezyra's words – they were still knowing, so aloof, but now it seemed like they had every right to be. Anna slowly nodded, sighing. "…I will."

* * *

**So...as I've been saying for like the past five chapters…things are picking up. But, now – **_**now **_**–****I can officially say this: **

**We have **_**finally**_** reached the **_**final leg**_** of this story! And also:**

**HOLY EFFING CRAP FINALLY LIKE HAS IT LITERALLY BEEN ALREADY TWO GOING ON THREE YEARS SINCE I STARTED THIS THING WILL IT EVER END ASJDHKSHDFJGEJRVDFKLVJL**

…**not that I **_**want**_** it to end, or anything, but…yeah, it's been a while. **

**Anyways, yes – I'm pretty excited. Maybe now, all of you can see exactly where that devastating, end-of-worlds prophecy that I threw into Chapter One fits in with all this. I hope. But, please – tell me what you think! I still love reviews. And, maybe they'll inspire me to do another typing marathon and write like three chapters over the weekend. Who knows?**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~whatswiththemustache**


	29. Dusk

**Chapter 29: Dusk**

Dezyra spent the rest of the day standing, shifting, simply staring at the Candle. The redheaded girl kept quiet, thankfully, even though Dezyra suspected that _quiet_ wasn't a word normally associated with the girl – but, it didn't matter. Dezyra didn't want to speak to her anyway, wanted nothing to do with her. After all – she'd soon be dead.

The girl didn't speak, and there wasn't anything left to do but wait – so Dezyra stood, and waited. She had everything; it was all ready. All she had to do was wait for the day to end, for the sun to set.

She was ready. More than ready.

_Soon they'll all be dead – soon, I'll be able to watch as they all take their turn to burn._

_Soon…I'll never have to be afraid of losing anyone else to them_.

And she was completely ready for that moment to come. To be here – to _feel_ every single one of those ignorant monsters perish – she wanted it. Dezyra wanted to relish it.

And yet she felt nervous.

But, she wasn't _nervous,_ and they weren't _nerves_. Not the kind associated with reluctance or second thoughts, anyway. _I'm far past all of that._

She'd come too far, been through too much, to ever turn back – after everything, she could only stand there and go through with it. Because, if she didn't, then who would? If she couldn't stand here and calmly end hundreds of thousands of lives, then who would? For the sake of her people, she _had_ to. And anyway, she wanted to. _If__ any one of them had the chance to do the same to us, they would._

It wasn't honorable, and it wasn't right – Dezyra wouldn't try to fool herself; there was no point. She _knew_. It wasn't like she wanted praise for this; she wouldn't get much of it. She knew that, and she knew that if her family could see what she was doing... well, that didn't matter anymore, did it? She knew – of course, she knew. It just didn't matter.

Morality had no meaning in this. It was simply survival, just that – _and revenge_.

And she didn't care.

She wouldn't apologize, wouldn't let fools like Elsa and Emrys prevent what needed to be done. They could chastise her all they wanted, later – eventually, they'd see. They would one day appreciate the new world that Dezyra was going to create._ Free of the monsters who hunt us like animals. Well, it's their turn to be slaughtered_.

The thought burned like fire, but also made her nervous – she shoved the feeling away, letting her anger simmer. Anger, and more anger – there was never a shortage of that, not for her. All it took was a thought –

An image, a memory –

And the fire returned. _They're all going to pay_.

It wouldn't be long now.

* * *

Silence.

That was what the words were met with, every time they were repeated; just shocked, uneasy silence, infused with near disbelief. Because, _surely not_. Surely, this wasn't actually happening.

Silence – from when Merlin told Gaius, to when Gaius told Arthur, to when Arthur started to tell the king but fell silent, himself, halfway through the explanation; he let Gaius continue, giving the details.

_Candle of Gerok. Activate the curse. Kill everyone_.

Merlin would have liked to ignore the words he'd already heard too many times, to let them fall on deaf ears, but he couldn't – he just couldn't. It was because they weren't true.

Not_ everyone_.

If Dezyra did this, if she succeeded – not _everyone_ would die. Not Merlin.

That was what hurt the most.

_It will kill every single person who has magic…or, every single person without it._ It was obvious which option Dezyra would choose. And, yes – of course, not _everyone_ would die. Gaius had magic, so he'd be safe; so would Elsa, and probably Morgana as well. Still, knowing that was barely a comfort at all – there was no way he could feel relieved, not with everything else.

Because – Arthur. Gwen. His mother. Nearly everyone in Camelot – everyone _everywhere_ –

Everything would fall apart.

He knew that this wasn't the time to be giving up hope; he knew that they'd faced terrible things before (though never this terrible, never this much) and had gotten away unscathed (for the most part). Merlin had to stay strong, had to focus, if he wanted to stop this; he knew _that_.

And yet, he couldn't steer his thoughts away from failure – and that seemed to suck every last trace of hope straight out of him. The thought of failing this time – the thought of living on while Arthur, Gwen, _all of them_ died...

The very _thought_…

He couldn't. The very thought sent shivers of panic through his body, making his limbs feel numb. _He couldn't_, he had to stop it, but the thought – _what if I can't_ – he just felt so exhausted.

It felt like years since he'd slept, and yet that didn't matter in the slightest, because _this_ – if he couldn't – it would all be over.

Merlin just felt numb. _Can't_.

* * *

That terrible silence stayed with them – even when someone spoke, it only seemed to shift, pressing tightly against the temporary noise.

Uther listened quietly, a stunned sort of expression frozen on his features – he only asked if Gaius knew of a way to stop the curse, and when Gaius replied with the customary "I am working on it, Sire", Uther nodded tightly and waved them all away. They were all ordered to keep silent about it, so as not to cause panic, and everyone in the room barely seemed to hear the command. It didn't matter – not one of them could bring themselves to tell another soul.

The three of them seemed to gather subconsciously – Merlin found himself trailing after Gaius in a daze, meandering to a halt in the deserted hall outside. Arthur wandered up as well, slowly rubbing a hand across his face as if trying to wipe the lingering blank expression off. They stood in that awful silence, eyes open but not really seeing. Merlin wasn't, and he couldn't really look but he knew that Arthur and Gaius weren't either.

It was Arthur who spoke first, eternities later. "We need to stop this."

Gaius raised an eyebrow, staring solemnly at the wall. "Indeed…"

The sigh that Arthur let out sounded like it was ripped from him, sharp and tearing. "_How_?"

And Merlin forced himself to stop just standing there, to stop _thinking_ and start doing. He cleared his throat with a scratchy sound, slowly lifting his head. "There _is_ a way…but, you're probably not going to like it."

They made their way to Gaius's chambers, still in silence but at least this time, it wasn't quite so thick. Still, they couldn't _not_ be tense - and others noticed. All three of them paused for a moment, wordless, when Morgana and Gwen walked by as they were passing through the open corridor overlooking the courtyard.

Morgana slowed down, watching their procession curiously, her eyes bright and more than a little wary. Gwen's eyes were on them as well, and Merlin felt numb again just looking at them - knowing what they _didn_'_t_ know.

Merlin looked away, averting his eyes, and Gaius did too - Arthur, however, slowed down as if he wanted to say something. There was a short moment of that stiff quiet - Morgana turned, lifting a slender eyebrow only to see Arthur shake his head and stride off.

"...Arthur?"

Her tone was curious and even a little concerned. Merlin and Gaius just hurried after Arthur, biting their tongues. _We'll solve it, we'll fix it, it's all going to be fine. _He willed it to be the truth, and yet the ominous feeling making its home inside him made it hard to believe.

Gaius's workroom was quiet and empty, which was quite the relief - just being in that familiar room, away from the eyes of everyone else who didn't know, seemed to lift a weight straight off of Merlin's shoulders. Arthur must have felt the same way, as he sighed heavily the moment Gaius pushed the wooden door to his chambers shut.

"We've got to tell them," murmured Arthur, eyes downcast. "All of them…"

It was tempting, but only to a point – did they really want everyone to know and become just as worried as they already were? It wouldn't help things. "They're better off not knowing," said Merlin firmly, shaking his head. "We'll stop it, and they'll never even have to know that they were in danger. It's better that way."

Arthur only gave a slight nod, still frowning in a tight way that gave the impression he was focusing very intently on something. After a short beat of silence, Gaius moved closer and cleared his throat.

"Well, Merlin," said Gaius solemnly, frowning at him. "What exactly is it that you have planned?"

_Planned? _Merlin almost wanted to laugh, because _planned _was hardly a word he would have used, but it really wasn't the time for it. Instead he nodded and took in a breath to speak.

"Well. Firstly, I think we need to figure out more of how Dezyra is going to use the Candle – the details, all that. We can't exactly stop her if we don't know enough about it. So, I was thinking…Gaius, remember what that book said about the Candle?" Merlin turned to Gaius with a meaningfully raised pair of eyebrows as he carefully said those last words. Of course, there hadn't been a book – and thankfully, Gaius seemed to catch on quickly enough that Arthur didn't notice anything.

They hadn't been able to find any information about the Candle of Gerok other than that which the dragon had given to Merlin. Of course, they hadn't really needed to – the dragon had told Merlin plenty. However, it would seem more than a little suspicious if Merlin acted as if he knew everything about the Candle and Gaius was oblivious, so they'd come up with a little cover-up story to be safe.

Gaius nodded his assurance, glancing at Arthur. "Ah yes, the book – I don't know _how_ you managed to make out the words, Merlin; they were much too, er, small for me to read."

Merlin nodded slowly, trying not to frown at Gaius – how had the man ever managed to get away with things around Uther for so long? Gaius was really a terrible liar – "Uh, yeah, well anyway – in that book, it said that the spell that's used to activate the Candle is so enormous that in needs a _vessel_ to keep it going. The vessel has to be a living person, whose life force is used to sustain the magic."

It felt beyond strange to be talking about the inner workings of magic right in front of Arthur – strange, but also sort of refreshing. Of course, he did wish that the subject could've been one that wasn't so terrible. "…What's interesting, though, is that the vessel used has to be a very specific person, or the spell won't work correctly. The choice of vessel is what guides the spell. Basically…if the person chosen as the vessel has magic, then the spell will kill people with magic. If the person chosen is someone _without_ magic, then the spell will kill those who don't have magic."

Arthur was, once again, looking at him with a muted expression of concerned bewilderment on his face. "…And exactly what good will knowing_ that_ do for us?"

How in the world did Arthur ever manage to be so ignorant? Merlin rolled his eyes slightly, letting out a puff of exasperated breath. "It's important," insisted Merlin, glaring. "And also…it explains some things." Yet another thing that he didn't really want to talk about, but he had to. At that moment, Merlin couldn't help but speak a little harder than necessary while looking at Arthur.

"I'm sure you remember how Elsa's sister was taken by Dezyra. Well, it makes sense now why she would take her. She needed a vessel, someone who didn't have magic to shape the curse – so, I think that Dezyra's most likely using Anna as her vessel."

If Arthur noticed that Merlin had spoken a little pointedly just then, he didn't show it – the prince only frowned in disquiet. "Anna…? And what…what will it do to her? Being the vessel?"

"Well – it'll kill her, but," said Merlin, tilting his head and squinting as he watched Arthur lower his gaze sorrowfully. Really, Merlin wanted to be mad at Arthur, for so many things – but of course, the prat had to act all noble and full of good intent at the exact wrong moment. He must do it on purpose – and anyway, Merlin didn't have time to be mad at Arthur. "But – I mean, she and _everyone_ who doesn't have magic will die."

"Yes, thank you, Merlin, I got that the first time."

_Or not._ "The _point_ is," said Merlin, resuming his glare. "We might be able to stop the curse by…somehow removing it from Anna? If we can make her _not_ be the vessel anymore – and I don't mean by hurting her or anything –" At that point he shot Arthur another fairly accusing glance. Arthur shifted, looking away with something akin to guilt on his face.

"And another thing – we do actually have some control over the spell, because I think that Dezyra must be using more of the magic she harnessed from Elsa to activate the curse. According to the, um, book – the spell is much too complicated and powerful for a single person to cast. Even for multiple regular sorcerers, it's too huge. That actually explains why Dezyra would have needed Elsa's specific magic, also…" He found himself adding the last sentence as an afterthought. _Elemental magic – perhaps another requirement for the spell? Or if Dezyra just wanted to ensure that it was powerful enough–_

Neither Arthur nor Gaius seemed to be catching on quite as quickly. "Again, Merlin – how exactly is this information going to help us?" Arthur scowled in an irritated sort of way, but the impression wasn't entirely convincing. Gaius, meanwhile, was simply watching Merlin with a pair of severely raised eyebrows.

"The point is – since Elsa is the _source_ of some of the power that's going to be put into the spell, she may have a chance at _reversing_ it. The book said that once this curse is started, there's only _one_ way to stop it – that's if the person who cast the spell willingly ends it. So, if Elsa's magic is used to cast the spell, then – it could very well be that she'll have the power to stop it as well."

His words were met with silence. Merlin found himself pinned by Arthur's very hard gaze – maybe a little too much talk about magic? Merlin had known that this would happen – how could he expect anything less? This was _Arthur_.

Gaius was looking faintly alarmed, staring between the two, when Arthur finally ground his teeth and spoke. "Merlin," growled Arthur, his eyes narrowed. "Do you remember the conversation we had last night?"

_Of course_ – Merlin threw back his head in annoyance. "_Yes_, Arthur, and _no_, I didn't speak to Elsa. It's not like I can just–"

Arthur cut him off, straightening with an angry look in his eye. "Then what, exactly, gives you the idea that we'll be collaborating with Elsa at all? Because if you _do_ remember our conversation, then you should remember me saying she's a _sorceress_, and therefore _evil_. We are not working with her."

Again, there was a sharp moment of silence – this time it was Merlin who stood gaping, rendered mute. Gaius was standing beside him, and Merlin could feel the old man's eyes on him – warning him, _beseeching_ him to stay silent. Merlin wouldn't do it. He already knew, could already feel the anger burning up through him. _Arthur, I truly cannot believe you right now…_

"I…you…" His words faltered before they were even fully said. Merlin swallowed heavily, meeting Arthur's eyes with a glare. "Wow. Prince Arthur, bravest of the brace, noblest knight, would do anything for his people – anything, that is, unless it involves asking the help of someone who'd made you look a fool. That about right?"

"Excuse me?" exclaimed Arthur furiously, face twisted in an affronted scowl. "What do you think you're–"

"You just can't admit being wrong, can you? Even when it's _so_ obvious, even when everything's _completely_ wrong – you can't just admit it. Elsa's just about the only person who can help us right now, the _only person_ who has a chance at saving hundreds of thousands of lives. And you won't ask her for help, because she's a_ sorceress_? She was being _controlled_, down in the vaults – it wasn't her fault!"

As Merlin ranted on, both Arthur and Gaius seemed absolutely shocked – Gaius had backed away, wide eyed, and Arthur spent the time gaping at him in alternating indignation and rage. Merlin ploughed on, determined to keep Arthur from cutting him off. "And before that, even then, Elsa was _never_ against us. Even when you tried to arrest her the first time – she _protected_ you! She saved the lives of you and your knights, she saved _my_ life; she was only trying to protect Anna by coming here in the first place! Dezyra's the one who's evil, and not because she's a sorceress either; it's just because _she is_. Elsa's trying to stop Dezyra, and yet here _you_ are locking her up! What a great king you'll make, locking up your allies, making enemies of friends. Are you _ever_ going to get over yourself and just _listen_?"

At that point, Merlin had to pause in order to take in a gasp of breath. He watched as Gaius looked down, eyes wide in astonishment, before Arthur took a step forward – jaw set, eyes flashing, he presented an threatening sight.

"You go too far," ground Arthur. His tone was final, or at least it was trying to be. "What–what makes you think – what gives you the right to question my judgment? To make such assumptions? You can't–"

Normally, Merlin would have stopped a long time ago – he'd never put himself quite so far out there, not like this. But _this_ – this was different. He shook his head, stepping forward again. "No, Arthur, listen. It doesn't matter, you can't deny the truth." Arthur wore an expression that said he'd do his best to try, but Merlin kept pushing with his angrily earnest words. "It _doesn't_ – you can't. In, I don't know – a few days? Soon, anyway – soon, everyone…everyone'll be dead, Arthur. Elsa is our only chance to stop it. That's all there is to it."

At that, a flicker of uncertainty danced across Arthur's face – the prince shifted on his feet, obvious in his attempt to regain his scowl. "There's bound to be another way –"

"There isn't. Not if you want to do this _without_ using magic, anyway," said Merlin, advancing with an intent look in his eye. Arthur frowned and took a step back before he seemed to realize what he was doing, straightening. "This time, it's the only way."

"No, look, everyone always says that, and we always get through anyway–"

"No, Arthur, that's not how this works – there aren't any loopholes or clever tricks we can pull, not this time, as if there ever were – don't you see? Magic is the _only way._" Merlin didn't even know why he was pushing this so hard; it wasn't like he needed to. He'd never before enlightened Arthur to his entire plan, the whole scheme – it had only ever been what was necessary, the bare bones. Arthur didn't need to know this, not now – so why? Merlin honestly couldn't say, but he couldn't stop himself, either.

Arthur's show of princeliness had promptly vanished. He seemed to be grasping at straws, a faintly desperate expression on his face. "Well, we can – if we kill Dezyra, then the spell will be broken, won't it? We can–"

"Oh, right, of course – _there's_ an idea!" Merlin said sarcastically, throwing up his hands. "Terrific. How do you plan on _finding_ Dezyra, if not with Elsa's magic?" And he very nearly almost felt sorry for Arthur, standing there with that desperately unsure look on his face. But Merlin didn't stop, couldn't. "And then, how are you going to get there before it's too late, if not with magic? How do you plan on making Dezyra _willingly end the spell_, if not with magic? Hmm?"

Arthur was shaking his head, a tight look in his eyes. "…No, look, there has to be a way, alright? We've always…I can't just…there has to be…"

Merlin saw the exact moment that Arthur's mind changed. The other man's strong shoulders slowly slumped as he released a silent sigh, staring with unreadable eyes at Merlin. He understood, now – Merlin could see it, could feel it. Apparently the prince still had a few faint arguments left, but his words had no heat in them. "But magic's illegal." It was almost a question.

"Yes, it is," replied Merlin, forcing his tone into something gentler. "So I suppose Camelot's survival is illegal then, as well. What would you prefer – _saving_ the kingdom by breaking the law, or watching the kingdom _fall_?"

Arthur finally nodded, letting his gaze drift away once more. "…Elsa's in the dungeons, though."

_All thanks to you, you prat_. "Yes, she is, isn't she?" replied Merlin pointedly, and Arthur sighed once again.

There was a long pause as Arthur seemed to gather his thoughts, opening his mouth as if to speak – but he didn't, not for a good moment of silence. Merlin got the distinct impression that Arthur was trying to say something particularly difficult – he glanced at Gaius questioningly, but he only received a wide-eyed, shocked glance from the old man.

Finally Arthur spoke, straightening. "Then I – I suppose, I…I will go speak to the king about having Elsa released," said Arthur carefully, avoiding their gaze. "If that's – if there's no other way, then…I'll see it done."

The prince started for the door haltingly, as if he'd forgotten the way; abruptly he turned back again, glancing at Merlin for an instant before his gaze darted vaguely away again. "And I – I suppose, I should…I'm sorry, Merlin, for not believing you earlier, and for blaming you, in all this – you were right. I –" He broke off, pausing, before giving a quick nod and striding away.

Arthur wrenched open the door to Gaius's chambers and hurried away – the sound of his footsteps echoed back to them, still sounding slightly unsure. Merlin let out a hesitant huff of laughter, shaking his head.

…_That was not what I expected._ He turned to Gaius with the beginnings of a grin, only to be swatted lightly by his guardian's gnarled hand.

"Hey – _Gaius_!"

Gaius's eyes were wide with mixed disbelief, shock, alarm – but mostly, outright concern tempered with anger. He stared at Merlin for a long moment, chewing on his words.

"Don't _ever_ do that again," said Gaius finally, frowning. "But…well done."

* * *

Dusk finally fell over the forest, sweeping darkness across the eastern skies.

_When the day is done, the curse shall wake._

Dezyra smiled into the darkening sky. "It's time..."

Finally, the time had come. The Candle was ready, she had her vessel - everything was ready. _Soon...it'll all be over. _

Nervous anticipation crawled across her skin with the bite of a thousand needles, but Dezyra ignored the feeling and instead moved faster, approaching the altar where her beautiful candle sat. At the pillar beside it, the red-headed girl was slumped - awake, and watching her with narrowed eyes. Dezyra gave her a lofty smile as she reached for the Candle, stroking it gently.

"I hope you're ready," said Dezyra quietly. "The time has come."

The girl, Anna, scoffed lightly in a resentful way. "Only too eager," she muttered. "What kind of spell is this, anyway? At least tell me that."

Dezyra shook her head slowly. "You'll soon find out..."

"Well then why are you doing this in the first place? What have you got against Elsa, or me, or anybody, anyway? What's the point?" The girl's voice was beseeching, and they made Dezyra clench her teeth in a sudden wave of anger.

_Why am I... _

Those words - they bring back the smell. _Thick smoke, charred remains, everything just ashes. An empty hole at home, in her heart, in everything she does, and the smell - the smell never goes away - _

"It doesn't _matter_!" Dezyra snapped, heaving a deep breath. The air tasted like forest, just trees and grass and dirt. "It's not - you don't have the right to ask me _anything_."

"Well, seeing as how you're forcing me to be your vessel-thing, I'd expect that I _do_ -"

"Enough!" Dezyra's voice cracked like a whip, and the entire forest fell silent under her will. "You're trying to stall me. It's not going to work."

Dezyra stood firmly before the altar, tossing a glance at the girl over her shoulder. "Now, don't forget to speak up when it's your turn," she said, smiling coldly. "You'll know the words - and if you choose to forget, you know what will happen..."

A fresh light of fear sprang into Anna's eyes - the girl almost seemed to shrink as she nodded slightly, looking to the ground. Dezyra's smile only widened, and she turned back to the candle.

The Candle of Gerok. Ancient and powerful, and so terrible...the look of it was stunning. Dezyra placed her hands on either side of it, palms down on the cold altar. The words flowed from her tongue, and she didn't even think - she'd long since memorized the words. She could say them in her sleep, but only now would they have effect. As she finished the long phrase in a single breath, the tip of the Candle's wick lit up with flame - a lonely flicker of fire danced there, glowing a deep red-orange.

Dezyra never looked away from the flame, not once. Now, the second part - the words came sharp and clear as ever. "Ic ásælan úre afol æt mín hléoþcwideas. Úre gewill diht néadhæs mín gewill."

Dezyra paused, and the flame seemed to surge - there was a moment of silence, long and charged with power. But finally, the words came - faint and stilted, because of course the girl had no power to wield. That was the point - this was not a spell, but a promise. "Duásælan... mín afol æt ...úre hléoþcwideas. Mín gewill ...diht néadhæs úre gewill."

_And there it is._ Dezyra couldn't keep the smile off her face as she let the final words roll off her tongue, each syllable heavy and surging with power - it was an incredible feeling. It was as if her body was ablaze, a surging fire with no heat and no consequences - a terrible, wonderful change-

When the last word boomed out - everything was silent. Dezyra's eyes had closed on their own accord at some point - she slowly lifted her eyelids.

The first thing that leapt into her vision, nearly blinding her with its brilliance - was the candle. At its tip danced a single flame - not orange, now, but a pure and absolute white.

A moment later, the silence broke - from Dezyra's left, came a voice. Less that than a sound, barely audible. "Ahh - uhhhh..."

Dezyra turned quickly, not thinking - the sight that met her eyes had her taken aback, stumbling. The girl - Anna - was still slumped at the base of the pillar. But now - it was unchangeably different. The girl's previously rosy complexion had drained to a startling shade of grey - not unlike that of the Candle's flame. She looked like a corpse - and that wasn't all. Beyond that, on every exposed bit of skin that Dezyra could see, was another shocking change. Underneath her skin...could be seen a web of veins, crisscrossing each other over and over again. It was as if the girl had aged fifty years - except, it wasn't. Those veins...they stood out against her grey skin unnaturally. And they _were_ unnatural...they'd all turned into a deep, dark shade of black.

Grey skin, black veins. Dezyra took a small step closer, examining the girl - her eyes were closed, but she still breathed. That sound - a gasping, pitiful attempt at a breath was the best that the girl could manage.

The sight was unnerving, and so Dezyra turned away to look back at the candle. It continued to burn on with its flame dancing ominously in the lack of wind. It was still beautiful...and Dezyra smiled at it, before looking up at the sky which had been overrun completely by night.

"And now we wait," murmured Dezyra quietly. She could bask in her victory soon - and this time, there'd be no annoying questions from _Anna_.

It was almost done. _Three days from now...the curse will have done it's work. Then, I'll be free._

* * *

**_So! Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing...especially you, Teekalin. You're awesome. ;) _**

**_Anyways, hopefully I can update semi-soon...but now I'm making an effort to complete my senior year of high school in the next two weeks so that I can start college early...so...I have no idea._**

**_Please review! Thanks for reading! _**

**_~whatswiththemustache_**


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